


Primary Lovers

by deltachye



Category: Pokemon GO
Genre: Agender Character, Demisexuality, Depression, Derogatory Language, F/F, Fluff, Homophobic Language, Homosexuality, Lesbian Character of Color, Minor Violence, Other, Reader-Insert, Romance, Romantic Comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-16 20:10:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 21,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8115808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye
Summary: [3-in-1] [fem!reader x candela, reader x agender!blanche, reader x spark]All colours stem from the primary three—and, often times, you can't do better than the originals. Especially when it comes to romance. You just can’t experience all the colours and ranges of love without the primaries.





	1. Candela [1/5] Excitement

 

* * *

 

**excitement (n.)  
a feeling of great enthusiasm and eagerness.**

You hadn’t known that you were gay.

The only thing you had known was that you liked everybody. You liked girls, and you liked guys; but you might’ve liked girls differently than guys. What was wrong with liking girls? Being friends with girls was okay, and being friends with guys was okay. When you were a kid, genders didn’t even matter all that much. There were cooties and germs and whining to no end, but when the bell rang for dismissal, you held hands and walked home with the person you liked. So, what was wrong with liking a girl a little more than a friend?

At the time you had known nothing of the heavily labeled terms society had written up. Later, you would see these as constricting, and later still, as ridiculous. For now, as a child, you were content with who you were. The days were long and bright, and you played your heart out, finding joy in the Pokemon around you as well as the world that you had the honour of being born into. With the vast creatures of the universe, you would find belonging. After all, they knew nothing of what humans had concocted among themselves: genders, sexualities, and orientations. Even more of the same trivial labels were being laid down faster than one could keep up, but it wasn’t as if your eevee was going to care whether or not you wanted to date a girl, a guy, or nobody at all.

That happiness and self-contentment was quickly crushed once you were older.

“What are you, a dyke?! Get away from me!” your friend screeched as you tried to kiss her. It hadn’t meant to mean that much—a quick peck to show your thankfulness. Sure, your heart had been racing, and you had thought about the million ways this would go the night before. But you had never expected flat, acrid rejection. Needless to say, your friend was quick to disavow her relationship to you, and you were immediately shoveled into one of the dreaded boxes.

Lesbian.

_Look out, she’s a lesbian! Watch out, she’ll try to hit on you if you get too close. Hey, don’t you think she’s too pretty to be a lesbo?_

It went on and on, and you were starting to wonder if they had forgotten your name entirely. Your sexuality, your romantic orientation—was that all you had become?

So that’s all you were now, was it.

The realization had felt like a cold dampness settling over you. It was as if the bruised clouds of reality had come to obscure the sun and rain a storm upon you for as long as you lived. You lost your interest in things. You tried to reject it; _no_ , you would lie, _that was just a phase! I’m better now._ And only when you rejected yourself would you then be accepted. They only wanted a false image of you, somebody who wasn’t yourself, and you would rather have nothing at all than a flimsy replication of yourself. Unfortunately, that stubborn way of thinking made your life very lonely.

You hadn’t expected a warm rekindling from a fiery girl to show up in your life so soon.

“Hey! Hey, you! Yes, you, stop looking behind yourself!”

The clipped, accented voice was surprisingly loud and clear despite her standing so far away. You squinted at her as she ran at top speed towards you, clearly in the middle of laps for her phys ed. class. She was either trailing behind or leading the group, as she was the only one around, and you would bet on the latter. In no time at all she was in front of you, resting with her hands on her knees. She was out of breath and sweaty, beads of perspiration dotting her coffee coloured skin like jewels, and you had to force yourself to stare at the ground as not to creep her out by gaping at her beauty. She swiped a forearm over her forehead, and slicked back her short-cropped hair before pointing down at the sleeping Pokemon at your feet.

“Your Growlithe okay?” she asked between breaths, her voice so strong and confident that you almost hated her for it right away.

“U-um, he was feeling a little cramped, so I let him out for fresh air.” On cue, your Growlithe snarled in his sleep, yawning widely to show his sharp canine teeth. You patted the top of his head affectionately, your hand freezing in place when the girl in front squatted low.

“May I?” she asked, peering up at you through her dark eyelashes.

“Y—I—uh—yeah, of course!”

You wanted to crawl into a pokeball yourself after that failure of a sentence.

The girl ran her slim fingers through your Growlithe’s hair and he let out a low, satisfied rumble at her touch. She chuckled slightly, the laugh genuine and pure. You were mesmerized by the action of her stroking the Growlithe’s striped fur until she wiped the other hand on her shirt, extending it towards you.

“Name’s Candela. I love fire Pokemon, so I just _had_ to check on this little guy. And you… should be in class, shouldn’t you?” she added, with a wry grin once you mustered the courage to shake her hand.

“Well, yeah, but…” _but everybody ignores me anyways, so I don’t bother showing up._ Your guilty expression made her laugh again, the sound making your heart thump desperately in your chest.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna snitch. But I do have a condition for that.”

“A-a condition?” you asked nervously, feeling a little apprehensive at the sudden devious smile stretching across her pretty face.

“You’re going to be my friend.”

“Your friend?” you repeated a little stupidly, sure you had heard this weird girl wrong. No, you were just dreaming, right? You pinched your arm as hard as you could and sucked in a hiss of pain. Somebody was asking you to be their friend… _for real_?

“Mhm!” Candela said, thrusting her hand out again with a grin. “I need a partner to help train up my Pokemon, and it’s obvious you got a good heart. I don’t care much for snooty rule worshippers, either. Will you help me?”

You hesitated for a while, watching her hand in the air. It didn’t waver or show any sign of backing off, like all the other ‘friends’ that had offered their support to you… when you looked up at Candela, she was silhouetted, her strong position looking even more powerful when backlit by the light.

Your heart stuttered, as if an old car being fed the ignition key for the first time in years. Suddenly you could see the road ahead of you again: a future that wasn’t littered with lying for the sake of self-preservation, or one that was sealed in fate. It was one that was open and endless. You reached your hand up and took hers, warm and calloused, and she pulled you up to your feet. Her smile was blinding and you finally were able to smile back.

“Yeah, I’ll help you,” you promised, feeling excited with the sudden possibilities Candela had made you aware of once again.

“Great! First thing’s first, you gotta run with me. Fast, too, else my class’ll catch you.”

“What?!”

“Well, you’re skippin’, ain’t ya’? I don’t need my new partner sent off to detention so soon. Come on, pick up the pace! Wake up your Growlithe, too, let’s go!”

“W-wait, Candela!”

But it took you no time at all to chase after her, and even less to feel at ease, matching stride. For the first time in a long time, you felt like a child again; one at ease with the universe, at ease with the world, and at ease with themselves.

And you were excited to see what you would see when you crested the hill, dismissal bell buzzing, hand in hers.


	2. Blanche [1/5] Serenity

**serenity (n.)  
the state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled.**

“So, what’s up with Blanche?”

“Oh, right, I was just thinking about this the other day! Is he—she— _it_ … a boy or a girl, d’you think?”

“Yeah, who knows? I mean, it’s not as if she’s got any tits, but no _way_ is she a dude.”

“I’d bet that Blanche’s a chick, all the way. Flat chested ladies with that type of jaw are pretty common. My college roommate’s ex looked a bit like her.”

“Oh yeah? No way, he’s gotta have popped out of his mom with a sack. How much you willing to bet—”

Before your colleagues could continue talking, you slammed your hand down on the desk, bringing their conversation to a grinding halt. The vaporeon you were grooming squeaked and jumped, startled. You ignored her, unable to disregard the morons’ talk behind you any longer. You turned in your chair slowly, your glare so icy that it might’ve frozen the tanks of water behind them.

“Why does it matter?” you asked them in a hauntingly sweet voice. One man squinted at you questioningly, even when the other swallowed nervously and shut up.

“What, you’re not curious?” he sneered. He crossed his arms over himself, flicking his white lab coat back dramatically. “Blanche never tells us what to call him… her… agh!” He scratched his head, huffing loudly, looking at you accusatorily as if you were somehow the source of his ill-founded frustration. “See how confusing it is for us? Why can’t Blanche just come out with it? Every time somebody asks, that he-she just dodges the question.”

“Oh, boo hoo me! I have to actually put _effort_ into respecting somebody enough to not use the binary pronouns? Tell me, what’s so hard about saying ‘them’?” You rubbed your balled fist against your eye patronizingly as if you were crying, but the hand trembled against your cheek, your rage making you ready to launch yourself at him if he said anything else idiotic.

“Why would I call the he-she ‘them’? You think that’s even normal? I’ll only call an alien something like that. Get a grip on yourself. I ought to start calling you ‘it’ too, if you’re so ana—”

“Don’t… use… _it_ for a _person_!” You stood, the chair sliding out from under you. You were all but ready to clock him, before a figure stood before you, pushing you back into your seat forcefully by the shoulders. You yelped with surprise when your feet were kicked out from under you, and looking up, you saw it was Blanche themselves.

“B-Blanche!” the man that had been ridiculing Blanche just seconds ago stammered hoarsely. The white haired scientist turned towards him, their neatly combed hair swishing in a fluid silver curtain over their shoulder. You didn’t have time to see Blanche’s expression, but judging from the one on the man’s face, it wasn’t jovial.

“Really, this is how you choose to spend your break time? Discussing other people’s business?” Blanche spoke gently, but their tone held no humour. “And you,” they snapped, turning on you suddenly with a mildly exasperated look. You froze under their eyes. “You should’ve finished with the vaporeon earlier. But you allowed your emotions to cloud your judgment, thus, affecting your work. As an intern, I expect you to have to work doubly hard for this error.”

You could see your colleague breathe a sigh of relief for being in the clear of Blanche’s chiding, and you wanted nothing more than to push the team leader aside and knee that guy where it hurt. But you bit your tongue and nodded meekly, feeling totally pinned under their gaze.

“Sorry, Blanche. I was just trying to defend you.”

“I know,” Blanche replied wryly, their deep blue eyes softening. They smiled at you, but the look was slightly strained, and did not crinkle the tanned skin near their eyes where a real smile would have. “You need not do such things for me. Focus on your work.”

“Y-yes, I will.”

“As for you…”

Blanche turned back onto the other man, who had begun to creep away. He stopped, frozen like a sawsbuck in headlight. 

“You may leave the Mystic group.”

“You’re… you’re firing me?” he gaped.

“No, of course not. I’m merely informing you of your options. If my gender is truly such a hindrance to you, it would be best for your own personal growth to disband from the team. Don’t you think?”

Behind Blanche’s back, you were grinning and fist pumping silently in encouragement, but the man merely frowned coldly in response.

“I worked years for you, y’know that, Blanche? Good, solid work. We worked together, too. I’ve known you before Team Mystic even started up. But you can’t even tell me if I should call you he or she? What kind of manners is that?”

“I have been very clear on many occasions that I am not comfortable identifying as either,” Blanche replied smoothly. “I appreciate and value your efforts, and hope to continue working with you. However, it appears that your scrutiny of my gender identity causes our interns to become quite fired up at the wrong times, so it would be best if we could forget the topic entirely. Is that all right with you both?” Blanche looked down at you and you hastily wiped the smug smirk off your face, sitting up straight.

“You bet, Blanche!” you chirped, winking at the other man.

“…sure,” he muttered with a scowl, turning away with his teeth clenched. You watched him stalk away, his pride so wounded that he even slouched over. You wanted to blow a raspberry after him, but Blanche rapped on your desk with their knuckles. Your head jerked back up to attention.

“My office when you’re done. We’ll discuss the research you conducted earlier today.”

“Yeah, of course!”

Blanche left with another smile, this one giving them the smile lines you had been looking for. When they left, the smell of French lavender and mint hung in the air, and you tried not to be weird by breathing in too deeply. The vaporeon surveyed you with her large eyes before sitting on its hind legs, snickering to herself. You fanned the blush off of your cheeks disgruntledly. 

“What do you know?!” you hissed to her, and she laughed again.

\---

“Blanche, can I come in?”

“Yes, of course.”

You stepped in after the automatic sliding door allowed you, once again taken aback by the expansive office. The windows were floor to ceiling, providing a seamless view of the city skyline and nearby park. Indoors, the sleek architecture blended with obviously expensive equipment and artwork. Even the dust in the air seemed fancy. Team Leader sure had its perks. 

“Take a seat,” Blanche said, adjusting thin wire framed glasses on their nose. You crossed the office and sat in one of the plush navy seats, your research notes settled on your lap. You waited patiently for Blanche to finish their paperwork, using the time to look around. Your eye was particularly caught on a hyper-realistic portrait of an Articuno.

“They say Articuno’s wings are made of ice,” Blanche said suddenly, noticing your interest. They slipped the glasses off of their face, closing them before placing the frames on their desk delicately. Their long fingers steepled in front of their face as they continued, their tone light but filled with nostalgia. Blanche’s eyes looked off into the distance, as if watching replayed memories of the past. “It seemed unbelievable at the time. I was never more amazed in my life than when I first came across one. A truly majestic creature… it was humbling to be chosen for the leader of Team Mystic, represented by an Articuno.”

“That’s not all that’s great about it,” you chirped, desperate to impress Blanche with your knowledge. “Articuno is genderless.”

“Yes,” they said with a small, warm laugh. “I suppose it is. Or should I say they?”

“Well,” you muttered, feeling the ridiculous warmth spread up your neck once again. “I just needed to give him a piece of my mind and defend you, that’s all…”

“The sentiment honours me. But what matters more than me is your own journey. Would you be so kind as to present your research?”

“Yes, of course!”

Your heart felt warm and fuzzy despite the chill of the air-conditioned room, and you couldn’t help but admire Blanche’s cool and strength. But most of all, they had some sort of charm around them that always relaxed you, no matter how nervous or high-strung you were.

“You know Blanche? I feel really calm around you.”

“You… do?” they asked, pale eyebrows arched slightly as you pulled files out. You nodded at them, smiling. 

“Yeah. You give off this aura of… serenity. It’s kinda hard to explain, but I really like being around you.”

They stared at you for a long second and a half, enough so that you were starting to regret saying anything at all. Before you could take it back, they laughed. You couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t as if Blanche never laughed, but it was rare—the sound was gentle, graceful, but also a little endearing.

“I quite like being around you as well.”


	3. Spark [1/5] Amusement

**amusement (n.)  
the state or experience of finding something funny.**

Being depressed wasn’t easy.

Well, duh. That’s a given. But it also wasn’t easy to know that you were depressed, either. It came and went but always seemed to return, and never was it the same; sometimes you just couldn’t get out of bed, and sometimes everything just seemed to annoy you to no end… sometimes it was as simple as being constantly sad, but sometimes it was just… complicated. Too complicated for words. Either way, you knew that you hated it, but it never went away. 

You didn’t _want_ to be depressed—god, who would? Every time you dragged yourself into recovery you thought ‘this is it, this is the last time! I’ll finally be a champion over this!’ But you were lying to yourself with those words, no matter which time it was. And it could be tomorrow, or a year from then when you would inevitably fall back into the cold clutches of your own fragile mentality. 

Seeking help or anything wasn’t really your thing, either. Everybody gets depressed, and anxious, and everybody has these thoughts. Why bother somebody with your problems when they have their own? People had it worse than you, too. So you decided to quietly accept your fate, and there was nothing much you could do about it but keep moving forwards. Really, one of the only reasons you hadn’t kicked the bucket yet was the egg.

Pokemon weren’t total strangers to you, but you’d never dedicated your feeble life to them, either. You fed them if they came by and moved aside for them to pass, but you hadn’t ever decided to call one your own and train it. On one walk through the forest to the rocky cliff looking out to the ocean, you noticed a spherical object thrown aside as if it had fallen from something, rolling far during the rainstorm yesterday. You dragged it out from under the branches trapping it, clawing at the mud, and closer inspection revealed it to be an egg. You didn’t quite recognize the markings on it, but knew that you couldn’t very well just leave it there. So you turned around, away from the rocky cliff looking out over the ocean, and headed back home. 

There was a Team Headquarters close by. You remembered it by the advertisement on television one morning: _“Pokemon are creatures with excellent intuition. I bet the secret to their intuition is related to how they're hatched. Come and join my team. You never lose when you trust your instinct!”_ Of course, at the time, you hadn’t really had any incentive to join. You didn’t even own a Weedle, much less a powerful team of well-trained Pokemon. But, you supposed, if Team Instinct was really that keen on egg hatching, you could swing by. 

You hadn’t realized that that casual thought to change your life so drastically.

“Excuse me?” you called out, walking into the headquarters. You had to double-check the sign several times before walking in. The inside didn’t fare much better than the peeling façade. For a Team HQ, it was pretty shabby. That was an understatement, too. There were only three floors, max, and the faded wallpaper didn’t exactly scream ‘official team headquarters’ to you. You looked around the small waiting area with muted curiosity. Despite being small, it seemed more on the cozy side than stifling. It was as if you were walking into your family dining room, instead of a musty old basement. There was a reception desk set up at the other end of the room and you stepped up to it, slowly, not seeing anybody around. Maybe you should just sit and wait?

“Hey, watch out!”

You didn’t have time to react when an enormous force collided with you, knocking you sideways clear off your feet. Your yelp of shock was cleared out of your lungs into a tinny, sad wheeze, but you managed to turn yourself in time so that you landed on your back. By taking the brunt of the force, you managed to shelter the egg wrapped in your arms. You sat up groggily, struggling to catch your breath. The person that ran into you also sat up, rubbing his golden hair with a pained expression.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized, blinking blearily at you. He pointed at his feet, and your gaze followed, your expression falling into one of total disbelief when you saw what he was wearing.

“Are those… heelys?”

“Yeah, you bet they are! How else am I gonna be efficient enough to catch Pokemon or hatch eggs?! Oh, speaking of. Is that an egg you’re holding?”

His sudden bluster and, frankly, _loud_ voice stunned you into silence before you registered his question. You nodded meekly. 

“I found it, abandoned. And I heard about egg hatching from the ads, so I was wondering if I could talk to the Team Leader or somebody to drop it off…”

“The leader of Team Instinct?” he coughed a bit, and you could’ve sworn he muttered, _the best team?_ under his breath.

“Yeah. Any idea where they are?”

“You’re looking at him!” he said, pounding a fist to his chest proudly. “Spark, at your service!”

You stared at him openly and silently.

“Why’re you giving me that look? Do you not think I’m the Team Leader or something?”

“Well… no,” you admitted bluntly, without shame.

“Why not?” he asked, sounding genuinely hurt.

“I just didn’t think that Team Leaders were the type to ride around indoors on heelys…”

“Oh? Well, now you know better!” Spark jumped up to his feet, extending a hand towards you. You took it, hugging the egg to your chest with the other. His grip was strong and surprisingly warm, so you let go quickly, feeling embarrassed. 

“So, you want help with hatching the egg?” he asked, still rubbing the arm that he ran into you with.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I don’t really have much experience, so I was wondering if I could turn it in—”

“Turn it in?” he interjected, raising an eyebrow. “Why would you want to do that?”

“W-well,” you stammered, not expecting a sudden and direct question like that. “I don’t know, I guess I haven’t really owned a Pokemon before, so I’m not the best person…”

“Don’t be silly. There’s a first for everything, right? Tell you what, I’ll help you hatch your little egg if you join Team Instinct for me.”

“J-join the team?! But I’ve never trained a Pokemon before! I don’t even own a Rattata!”

He ignored your protests and crouched a bit to your height, just enough so that he could lay a hand on the egg you were clutching protectively. You watched with amazement as his joyful expression softened into one of paternal familiarity.

“Don’t worry. I’ll help with a safe delivery. Just take your time, okay, little one? The world’s a pretty great place, so we’ll wait for you,” he murmured, directing his gentle voice to the egg. You didn’t even think this guy—clad in an offensively bright yellow hoodie and _ridiculous_ leather pants—knew what the world ‘gentle’ even meant. But you were wrong, apparently. You then gasped a little when a small tap, barely noticeable, bumped against your hand from under the shell. 

“Did you feel that? It moved! I-it really moved!” you all but shouted, feeling excitement for the first time in a long time. You realized how loud you were being and blushed faintly. “Sorry, I…”

“No, that’s great! Means you did a good job taking care of it.” Spark’s grin was contagious and you felt your lips tugging upwards, too. Bashfully, you looked to your feet, trying to wipe the stupid expression off your face.

“I didn’t, not really. I just found it on the side of the mountain passage…”

“Doesn’t matter what you did. You did something good, and that’s enough. I can tell you’ll be a great addition to Team Instinct. So, what do you say? Shake on it?”

You pressed your lips together in an attempt to stifle the happy grin on your face, but you couldn’t. Hot points of pinpricks dotted the backs of your eyes, but you willed yourself to stay calm. It’d be stupid if you randomly burst out into tears when he was just asking you for a handshake.

But truthfully, it was the first time in a long time that you had actually felt purpose, and you were so relieved that you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“Sure.” You shook, feeling the warmth of his hand again. This time, you didn’t let go as hastily. You smiled up at Spark before remembering a question you had wanted to ask.

“Oh, Spark? Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, shoot.”

“What’s with the place? Why’s it so empty and uh… small?”

“Oh, right. Well, Team Valor and Team Mystic are both kinda… powerhouses, I guess you can say. So our players are all out trying to capture that gym down the street. And I forgot to pay rent for the last place, so we got kicked out and had to relocate.” He scratched his neck a bit sheepishly with a little grin, as if it was no big deal. 

“What—wait! You mean, _everybody_ on Team Instinct is out to capture _one_ gym?”

“…yes. No takebacks, you shook on it. If you join another team, I’ll cry, I swear!” 

You couldn’t do anything but stare at him silently. He ignored the quiet look of distress on your face and instead, pointed outside with hurried gestures.

“Come on, we gotta go see how our team’s doing! I swear to God, if Blanche or Candela is out there, we’re doomed—agh!”

“Oh my God, are you okay?!”

You shrieked as he slipped on his heelys again, faceplanting forwards. You crouched at his side, hands fluttering worriedly, but he merely lifted himself back up onto his fours. He smirked at you through the scarlet trickle of blood coming from his nose and the well of tears in his eyes.

“Better than fine!” he chirped with a bit of a nasal lisp.

You blinked… and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded, but you couldn’t stop laughing. You hadn’t laughed in a while, and it hurt, seizing your chest and abdomen until you felt as if you were going to spew chunks all over him. You gasped for breaths, your shoulders shaking from the giggles that continued to rack your body.

“I just… nevermind. Let’s go. Try not to fall this time, will you?” You wiped the tears from your eyes and held out your hand, allowing him to grip on to you. You had never thought you would be in the position to pull somebody up. You had always just assumed that you would be dragging everybody down, but now… you helped position a shaky Spark onto his feet, still snorting with amusement.

“All right, would you stop laughing at me? It’s a perfectly reasonably idea, mind you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Heelys. Great one.”


	4. Candela [2/5] Devotion

**devotion (n.)  
love, loyalty, or enthusiasm for a person, activity, or cause.**

It was less of a “do I like her more than a friend?” feeling, and more of an “I’m super gay, oh no!” feeling. After befriending Candela, you had practically become glued to her side, following her on her adventures wherever she went. But it wasn’t forced—and didn’t _feel_ forced in the slightest. You actually enjoyed hiking out into the wild bush to look for baby Ekans, even if your mosquito-bite ridden skin and sore muscles didn’t agree with your enthusiasm. Yet, the more time you spent with her, the more you started to worry. All your life you had wished for yourself to be normal. You didn’t want to like girls; you wanted to like the boys, like all the other girls did. You had tried to ‘pray away the gay’, and did your best to bury any feelings that you might’ve developed. But at this point, your attraction to Candela was starting to go past the point of no return. 

Finally, you had decided to take things into your own hands. You’d separate yourself from her and have her forget that she ever knew your sorry, weirdo self. You didn’t _want_ to; God, you wanted nothing more than to be with her. But you would prefer to be alone once again rather than tarnish the rising star’s reputation.

The conversation went something like this:

“I think I should leave.”

“What, are you stupid?”

“N-no, I just…”

“Why then?”

“Um… I… I like you.”

“You like me, so you’re gonna go? What kind of logic is that?”

“More than a friend. I... no, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Sorry, forget—”

“Dios mío, you’re an idiot. Come closer so I can kiss you.”

“What?!”

And she had done just that; kissed you. Not only that, she had kissed the words and will to protest right out of your mouth. Thinking about it today still felt surreal, and you were still wondering if you had imagined it. It had felt so _right_ , as if that was just how things were laid out to be.

However, despite it all, you still had doubts. There were prettier women than you, and handsome men—why would she bother with a nerd like you? At this point you had rationalized the kiss to be a tool of manipulation to keep you from running away. There was no way it could’ve been real. 

But you had been too cowardly to leave, so you stayed, saying nothing. You hiked behind her, panting heavily with the exertion of the steep climb. Your heart hurt—not from the exercise—but from the thought that she would never love you back like you loved her. 

“We’re almost there!” she chirped, glancing back, sounding as if she hadn’t just been climbing up the side of a mountain. Her super athleticism would be something you could never understand. You nodded wearily, too tired to say anything back. She turned her gaze forwards again and your eyes remained glued to her back. You had always admired her outgoing traits, and her indomitable spirit. (Really, you admired everything about her, but that wasn’t something that you would admit.) When Candela wanted something, she would go get it. When she was upset with something, she would say something about it. She was the complete opposite of you, and better. _Really_ , you thought bitterly, _I have no place with her._

“It’s getting kinda dark,” you blurted out in a hasty attempt to drown out your own self-deprecation. “What are we doing out here, again?”

“It’s a surprise. And don’t worry, I know where we’re going.”

The slope was tapering off to flat ground again, much to your relief, and you finally managed to catch your breath. Your legs ached and your lungs burned, but you continued to follow Candela, albeit with a little less bluster than when you were at the bottom of the mountain. Candela slowed and looked at you, her amber eyes looking like molten gold in the fast-setting sun. She caught your hand in hers and pulled it, making your heart leap when you felt her roughened skin on yours.

“Come on, it’s like I’m trying to drag a Snorlax around. Pick up the feet, we’re almost there.”

“And ‘there’ is where, again?” you grumbled, but obeyed, catching up to her pace. Her hand squeezed yours and you felt more light-headed than usual, plodding along behind her. The trees started to thin out and you realized where ‘there’ was very soon.

“Oh,” was all you could manage. On top of the outcrop, you could look down upon the city, which gleamed in the valley like a handful of little multi-coloured gemstones. Pine trees blanketed the mountains on the opposite side. Buildings that had once seemed do tall looked little more than a haze of glass against the landscape. The sun was a blazing orange, and its light painted the sky with pastel pinks and purples. The entire scene looked as if it was ripped out of an artist’s magnum opus. Candela’s hand gripped yours tightly and she turned you to face her, taking your other hand in hers.

“Something’s been on your mind for a while,” she said quietly, as if speaking loudly would disturb the moment. The sun sank below the horizon, leaving nothing but silvery clouds to streak the sky. In the dim light, it was hard to see her, but her voice and touch were clear. 

“Why did you take me up here?” you asked. “I mean, it’s beautiful, but…”

“Like you. [Name], do you think that I don’t love you, or something?”

“Wow,” you replied stupidly, unable to process what she had just said. “Like… _me_ , me? You’re talking about _me_?”

She laughed, the crystalline sound giving you heart palpations. “Yes, like you. Now answer my question. Is that why you’ve been all moody? I can see right through you, y’know.”

Knowing that you were found out, you sighed, lowering your gaze shamefully. “I just thought… I mean… ‘why would she care about me?’ I’m not very pretty, or smart, or talented…”

“Yes, you are,” she said forcefully, “and I brought you up here to tell you that.” Her fingers laced through yours and her thumb traced the back of your hand soothingly. “You’re the only one in my sight. And I don’t want you to ever doubt that.”

Now you were _really_ sure you were hallucinating. But, you decided that maybe just once, you would accept her words without hesitation. Just once, to see what it felt like, to trust in somebody else. To love somebody without hesitation. Her words filled you with warmth and you pressed your lips together in an attempt to hide a smile.

“So, I’ll be yours as long as you have me,” she continued. “What do you say?”

“I’m sorry I ever doubted your devotion,” you mumbled sheepishly, turning your gaze back out into the valley. You should’ve known. Candela was a woman who stopped at nothing to get what she wanted; and when she had it, she never let go. Dusk set over the lightened sky like a navy blue curtain. The stars were visible this far out, unlike in the city, and they looked like diamonds of the heavens. 

“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” Once again, her boisterous voice returned, and she let go of one hand so the two of you could begin walking back down. “By the way,” she mentioned cheerily, “I don’t know how to get back to town.”

“What?! You said that you knew where to go!”

“I lied to sound cool.”

“Well, Candela,” you sighed, still feeling so elated with your self-acceptance to feel even the least bit panicked, “if we get mauled by Ursarings, I would rather be mauled with you than mauled with anybody else.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.”

“I know, right? But seriously, we had better be out of here before nightfall, or I’ll be really mad at you.”


	5. Blanche [2/5] Mutual Trust

**mutual trust (n.)  
reciprocal belief in the reliability, strength, ability, and truth of one another.**

You didn’t wake up this morning and expect to be sprawled out onto the cold marble tiles like this.

The man who tripped you gasped mockingly and clicked his tongue with disdain. You rose, as dignified as you could manage from being tripped up because somebody stuck their foot out, and turned to look at him slowly.

“I didn’t see you there,” he crooned apologetically, the blatant lie hardly even funny, “what with you being so _high above us_.”

“What are you talking about?” you hissed, ignoring the stinging pain of your bruised knees and palms. 

“You’re obviously getting special treatment from Blanche, that’s what.”

“Are you an idiot?” you asked, eyes boggling out of your damn skull. “Blanche treats me the same way as anybody else!”

“Are _you_ the idiot? You go up to his office all the time. He gives you all these special projects. What do you think that spells out for us other interns? I might as well quit while I’m ahead so I don’t give him the pleasure of firing me.”

“Blanche is not a he,” you said warningly, but quietly, remembering Blanche’s orders for you to keep your mouth shut about their gender and pronouns. However, hearing this airhead casually spit out such idiocy made you wonder just how much trouble you would actually get into for shoving your fist down his throat.

“What, a she, then? He-she? _It_? Give me a break. Tell me what you’re doing to be Leader’s Pet.” He stepped towards you menacingly and a bit of your fury boiled off into genuine fear. He was a full two heads taller than you and had more than a hundred pounds on you. You licked your dry lips and stepped back once as well.

“Nothing,” you spat back acridly, deciding that you had better keep up your confident persona as not to get pummelled to death. “Maybe I’m just better than you, and maybe _you’re_ the one not up to standard.”

“ _You_? Your research sucks dirt, you know that?”

Your mouth fell open with pure offense and anger. You could take insults about anything, really; you didn’t care how people thought you looked, sounded, or acted, but you _did not_ tolerate people insulting your work.

“I work day and night to provide accurate data. What have _you_ done that’s not up to par with my work ethic? Scratch that—” you scowled, shaking your head, “what have I even done to you in the first place?”

“What have you done to me? And the others? When we gotta sit down here and watch you wag your tail for Blanche—get all these treats and goodies—while we work our asses off for nothing?” His nose wrinkled with disgust and he continued, the bitter tone transitioning into a taunt. “And what are you looking into again? The gender ratio of an evolved eevee? Funny, maybe we oughta run those tests on Blanche. Your theories are trash, your hypotheses are worthless… you don’t belong on this team.”

“I can’t believe you,” you whispered, your voice broken with sudden strain. You rubbed hot tears from your eyes. You were disgusted with yourself for actually taking his spiteful words to heart, and even more horrified that you were actually cracking in front of this juvenile bully, but it stung despite your best efforts to ignore him. Blanche really had seemed to single you out from the others. Bias was equivalent to heresy in the scientific community, but Blanche gave you assignments that the others didn’t. Assignments that you sometimes doubted, yourself. The colleague noticed your breakdown and his smile only grew wider. “We’re supposed to be working together,” you continued in a hoarse mutter, mostly to yourself.

“You _are_ supposed to be working together, no?”

The sudden addition to the conversation jolted you out of your stupor and you stood straight, eyes wide as Blanche walked in front of you. Blanche’s blue coat swayed a bit as they walked, making it look as if it were sewn out of water.

“Honestly, do I have to break up arguments for you all the time?” Blanche asked you, looking and sounding very much like a parent reprimanding their child. You swallowed a bit and hastily swiped the tears off of your eyelashes.

“Sorry,” you murmured sheepishly. The ‘colleague’ that had been talking to you looked pale and sickly when Blanche rounded back on them.

“You are free to leave the Mystic group,” Blanche stated. You winced. Blanche’s voice was suddenly cold, leaving a chill down the length of your arms. You had never heard Blanche sound so cruel. Not once. Not even when they were being insulted, or misgendered right to their face—so why now?

“S-so you’re not gonna deny it?” he replied, his voice squeaky with panic. His face was pallid but he held his ground somehow, finger shaking in the air as he jabbed it at Blanche. “You’re favouring—!”

“I am not favouring anybody. I am merely recognizing talent. _You_ failed to complete simple tasks that a ten year old child could do, therefore, you did not earn the right of acknowledgement. [Name] here,” Blanche paused, putting a hand on your shoulder, making you seize with the sudden warmth of their touch, “exceeded as both a researcher, and a trainer. Being on Team Mystic does not entail of ignorance with the pokemon we are meant to bond with. I observe each intern individually, and you’ve done nothing but ignore the pokemon we are meant to nurture. So, to answer your question, I am denying your accusations and request your leave immediately.”

 _Damn_ , you thought in a daze, _Blanche has no chill._

Silently, the man swallowed and turned, shuffling off shamefully. You looked up at Blanche, who finally took their hand off of you, allowing you to breathe again.

“Thanks for that, but you really didn’t need to fire him like that...” You looked back down the hall where the fellow intern had thrown his lab coat onto the floor. It lay crumpled and sad, totally forgotten.

“I was just about to sign his termination paper anyways. This just sped things up. Speaking of which…” Blanche stepped in front of you and crouched slightly, peering into your eyes. You blinked, the bright blue of their irises startlingly clear. You wondered how Blanche had seemed to scare that intern so much, when all you saw was kindness and concern. “Are you all right?”

“What?” you gasped, realizing they were talking to you. “Me?! Yeah, I’m fine! Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You were crying,” Blanche pointed out with a bit of dry amusement.

“Oh, right. Um, allergies, you see…?”

They raised a pale eyebrow and you smiled sheepishly. 

“I guess he kind of hit close to home,” you admitted, slumping a little. “I always worried that I wasn’t good enough, and when he said those things…”

“[Name],” Blanche said. You expected their tone to be stern but instead, it was still soft and gentle, layered with a familiar warmth that relaxed your strung up nerves. “You are _more_ than good enough. He… might have been on the right track. I’ve been paying more attention to you than the others.”

You stared openly, not ready to hear something like that. Blanche seemed to notice their strange wording and reddened slightly, the look particularly amusing on their normally stoic face.

“What I mean to say is that you _are_ better than the rest,” Blanche said hastily. “You have more dedication and show the most effort, which is why I want to personally attend to your growth. …you see?”

Seeing Blanche lose composure was like seeing a Snorlax willing agree to run laps. Impossible.

“It’s a little unnerving to have you stare without saying anything,” Blanche prodded bashfully, and you forcibly shook yourself out of it.

“Th-thank you so much! I didn’t realize you actually paid any attention to me at all…”

“Of course I do,” they responded, a little quickly. They smiled, their expression enchanting you into silence once again. “I look forward to when you might take the title of Team Leader yourself.”

“Me? No, there’s no way. I mean, _you’re_ Team Leader…”

“There will be a day when I step down, and I want you to be the one taking my place.”

The entire thing was surreal and you were very close to asking Blanche to punch you in the face in order to make sure that you were awake. You managed not to and smiled, turning your face down to the ground to hide the goofy expression.

“You look much better when you smile,” Blanche said, an offhand compliment that just about put you into cardiac arrest. They continued, not noticing how stiffly you were standing. “I hope you realize that you are not alone. Even if the other interns are jealous, I will be here to protect both you and your reputation. You can count on that.”

“Count on it…?”

“In return, I expect nothing but your best work. Do we have a deal?”

“Yes,” you responded, a little quickly. You nodded furiously, the stupid grin back on your face. “We do.”


	6. Spark [2/5] Kindness

**kindness (n.)  
the quality of being friendly, generous, and considerate.**

You really wanted to say that you were totally over it. “I beat depression! I’m fine now!” You would’ve given anything for that. But it just wasn’t the truth.

Even with Spark and the rest of Team Instinct’s help, your egg wouldn’t hatch. You walked high and low for it; you sung it lullabies and read it nursery rhymes; you carried it everywhere you went. You could feel its pulse on your fingertips, but it didn’t show a single sign of hatching. At this point you were starting to believe that maybe it wasn’t hatching because _you_ were the one holding it. You expressed this concern to Spark, but he merely laughed and told you not to worry about it. You rolled your head to the side and glared at the mini nest of jackets you had arranged for the egg. It sat still. 

“I’m worrying,” you muttered aloud to yourself. 

Not only did the egg refuse to hatch, you were also a failure of a trainer, as well. While people around you were catching pokemon left and right, everything managed to flee from you, dissolving out of sight. Even a Weedle revolted from you and snaked back off into the grass. A _Weedle_ wouldn’t give you a break. Spark has also asked you to take care of his Jolteon, once, but it merely tried to zap you to death over and over. Your idea of ‘watching over it’ became cowering in the corner while it sparked at you aggressively. You honestly had nothing to contribute to Team Instinct. So you decided that you might as well stay home.

A couple of days had passed since your ‘resignation’ and you’d only gotten out of bed to go to the washroom and eat an instant noodle packet. Nothing really had meaning anymore, but you still clung onto the hope that maybe the egg would hatch. 

Spoiler alert, it never did. 

You turned your eyes back up to the ceiling and sighed through your nose. What were you doing wrong? Spark had said that eggs sometimes took a while to hatch, but he’d commented that not one had taken this long. You knew that the pokemon inside wasn’t dead, but it might as well have been. How relatable.

You closed your eyes and was halfway to sleep before your front door slammed open. You sat up with a jolt, the sudden movement bringing a rush of blood to your head. Your vision blacked out and you blinked rapidly. Was it robbers? Crooks? But when your sight was restored, only Spark stood in your doorway, peering into the bedroom.

“Ah, there you are!” he said jovially, as if he hadn’t just broken into your house.

“You just broke into my house!” you spluttered. “What are you doing here, Spark!?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m checking up on my ditcher of a team member, that’s what. I’m talking about you, by the way.” He crossed the room and sat on the bed, his weight dipping the mattress. You pulled your knees up to your chest and made room for him, raising your eyebrows sceptically. Spark noticed the egg balanced on the chair and pointed at it.

“Ah, Eggie hasn’t hatched yet, has he?”

“No… wait, Eggie?”

“Yeah. It’s been taking its sweet time, so I figured I might as well give it a name while we wait.”

“You still believe it’ll hatch, then,” you asked doubtfully. 

“Mhm. Of course it will. Once Eggie feels ready, it’ll come.”

You were astounded by his confidence. “But when will that be? It’s been a week, Spark. Even _you_ said that an egg never takes this long.”

“There was a first for everything, right? First person to fart, first person to dab…”

“Dab?” you cut in, regretting it as soon as you saw the light flash in his eyes.

“You’ve never seen anybody dab?”

“What, like, with a tissue or a cloth…?”

“Oh boy, you really do live under a rock. Do you even have Wi-Fi here?” He gestured around the room, which was in a sorry state.

“Yeah,” you admitted, “but I don’t really keep up with the trends.” _I’m too busy wading in an endless pool of meaninglessness and existential crises to check out the ‘memes’, sorry._

“Okay great. This means that I can be the first guy to show you my sick moves!” He sat cross-legged on your bed, his grin crooked. He snapped his gloved fingers, making you flinch in surprise. “Before I do that, can you promise me something?”

“Promise what?” you asked, still feeling wary of the entire situation. Why had he even come in the first place? Why was he still here, even? But Spark moved on without acknowledging your confusion, barrelling forwards without a care in the world. Maybe you were jealous of that attribute.

“That you’ll start talking to me whenever something’s up,” he said, pointing at you.

“But… why?” You stared at the tip of his finger, your face crinkled with befuddlement.

“You joined Team Instinct, didn’t you? That means you’re one of us. And we’re a family. If you don’t want to talk to the rest of the team, I’m always gonna be here for you. That’s a promise.”

“Spark…”

“You don’t need to tell me what’s wrong right away, if you’re not ready. I just want you to know that you can. And I’ll listen.” He rocked on your bed a bit, holding his feet. He looked a little like an over-excited child, despite the maturity of his words. Your heart thumped loudly and you clenched the sheets with your fists.

“It’s a promise, right?” you asked quietly, staring intensely at your lap. You had never ‘talked’ to anybody before, deeming it useless and detrimental. Should you start? A part of you argued against it. _Why him?_ it asked, _he doesn’t know what you’re going through. Even you don’t know what you’re going through, dumbass._

And the other half said, _who cares if he doesn’t know? He’ll try to understand, won’t he? And isn’t that enough?_

“Shake on it?” He held out his hand.

You looked at it. All this time, you had been alone to save anybody the burden of caring about you. But nobody had come all this way to check up on you, for the sole reason that you hadn’t shown up in a while. You still hardly knew Spark further than being colleagues, but he had still come to cheer you up.

The half that believed he was a good guy won out. You nodded and reached to shake. Before you could touch his outstretched palm, he shouted “aha!” and bent his arm with lightning quick speed, shoving his face into the nook it made. The other arm was outstretched in the same direction. You stared at him, your hand handing in the air. He peeked up at you from his arm.

“Are you sneezing?” you asked slowly. He groaned loudly, dropping his arms.

“Are you kidding me? You really have never seen anybody dab! Wait, no, this is great. This means that I’ll be the one to teach you! Come on, just follow my lead—”

“What?! No, I’m not doing your stupid ‘dab’—”

“If you wanna stay on Team Instinct, you’re gonna dab, right here and right now. Okay? On the count of 3…”

You hadn’t thought of it then, but in that moment, he made you smile. And that was the kindest thing anybody could have ever done for you.


	7. Candela [3/5] Passion

**passion (n.)  
strong and barely controllable emotion.**

You already knew that Candela was a passionate woman. She was passionate about everything she did. Whether it was the pokemon she trained and raised or the love she showed you; she never backed down in intensity, and you adored her for it. But, you wished that she might tone down on that ‘passion’ when at the store, because she seemed to have a lack for… well, calm.

“Are these white chocolate kit-kats?! Dios mío, [Name], look! White chocolate kit-kats! Can you believe it?!”

“We’ve had those around since forever,” you replied, exhausted. Apparently, she had never learnt the meaning of ‘indoor voices’, and yelled at you excitedly despite the fact that you were only standing a foot away from her. Candela squatted low in the middle of the candy aisle, blocking it effectively as she studied the price tags. 

“You’re totally in the way Candela!” you hissed, awkwardly giving an apologetic smile at the kid with his shopping cart. He scowled back at you but said nothing, tapping a foot impatiently. Still, Candela did not move, the idea of shame having been lost on her from a young age.

“Hm. Why are the dark chocolate kit-kats more expensive than the white chocolate kit-kats…?” she mused aloud. You hoped that she would get up or take up space on the _sides_ of the aisle, but she did not. The kid angrily removed his cart, making a big deal out of the 3-point turn, giving your girlfriend another nasty glare before stomping off the other way. People with baskets scooted around Candela with some difficulty, their expressions strained. Hastily you stooped down to Candela’s level and looped an arm around hers, the other occupied with the (very full) shopping basket.

“Let’s just move to the side a bit, okay?” you pleaded, but she shrugged you off with a hot glare that sent cold shivers down your spine. She jabbed a finger at the price tags, and, giving in, you looked grudgingly.

“The dark ones are more expensive than the light ones,” she repeated, her tone flat. The lack of emotion made her sound all the more dangerous.

“Yeah, I see that.” You scratched your head. She was right, you supposed. The white chocolate kit-kats were 2.99 a piece, and the dark ones were 3.88. “It’s not that big of a difference, though.”

“Don’t you see?” she pressed. “Why are the dark ones not equal to the white ones?”

“Candela…”

“As if being a gay woman wasn’t enough in this country!” she ranted explosively, standing up abruptly. You winced, getting up with her. With that look in her eyes, she reminded you of a champagne bottle with its cork having shot up so violently that it lodged itself in the ceiling. People around you stared as this crazy woman started yelling in the middle of the supermarket. She continued, paying no mind to the strange looks she was receiving. “They discriminate based on colour, too? Well, we all bleed the same red blood, don’t we? We all love the same way. Why does the white kit-kat get to be cheaper?! I won’t tolerate this!” She crouched down again and was about to start ripping out the price tags before you wrenched her hand back.

“Or maybe!” you yelped hastily, clasping her wrist tightly so that she wouldn’t destroy company property, “dark chocolate is just more expensive than white chocolate because of how its made!”

She paused, her furious expression melting down to curiosity.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I mean, what if it’s organic chocolate? Then it makes sense for it to be more expensive.”

A beat. She thought about it. You didn’t dare ask her to move out of the way, and after hearing that outburst, most people had scattered far away from her anyways. Then, a big smile burst out over her golden-toned features. She slipped her hand into yours and squeezed it, nearly giving you a heart attack.

“Oh. That makes sense. [Name], you’re so smart! This is why I love you. Never join Blanche’s team, okay? You’re mine forever.” She stood up again as if nothing had happened. Her hand still intertwined with yours. You followed her up, still locked in a daze. A stupid grin of your own made your cheeks hurt. Candela called you smart. Candela said she loved you. Candela wanted you by her side forever. You might as well have had hearts for eyes when you looked at her, taking the basket from you so that you wouldn’t have to carry it. 

Then, she gasped. “Look! [Name], look, the watermelon’s on sale! Run, we need to get some!” The basket hit the floor and she was gone, sprinting off towards the watermelon so quickly that a ghost image of her was left on your retinas. You blinked, and sighed gently to yourself as you picked up the basket she’d dropped.

Maybe it was best that she didn’t tone down that passionate heart of hers. After all, it just made being her lover that much better.


	8. Blanche [3/5] Security

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic mentions of blood + injury. Discretion is advised.

**security (n.)  
the state of being free from danger or threat.**

Despite Blanche’s promise to protect you and your reputation, you still found yourself victim to onslaughts of slandering and dirty looks. It wasn’t Blanche’s fault. It wasn’t as if they could constantly be hovering around you to ward off jealousy. Blanche was constantly busy, as Team Leader, and you found that you… well, you missed them. As cheesy as that sounded, and as childish, you wanted to be in their company for as long as possible. Sometimes Blanche would walk by the lab in order to get somewhere else, but you always made an effort to try and get their attention of they did. Sometimes, Blanche would nod and smile at you, and you’d think about it for days. You knew you were being stupid and dumb. A crush? You, the intern, on Team Mystic’s Leader? No way in hell would that work out!

But you dreamt about it anyways, because your heart was an asshole that liked to throw your brain’s logic right out the window. 

You hadn’t even seen Blanche for a near week, now. They’d gone on a trip to the ports in order to conduct research on specific water type pokemon. Blanche’s absence left a gaping hole in your heart, but their lack of presence was not lost on the others, either.

“Hey, He-She’s Pet. You wanna be a dear and fetch a pencil for me?”

It’d been like this the minute Blanche had departed. The others had all been kept in check by fear, but now that those icy blue eyes were gone, they had free reign to torture you. You grit your teeth and looked up from the microscope, looking wearily at the fellow intern. She smiled at you fiendishly, curling her hair around a pencil. It was sharpened. She noticed you looking at the pencil and scowled menacingly.

“Go on then. Get me a damn pencil. God knows what kind of chores you’re doing for Blanche to get her attention. This should be no problem. I’m prettier than her, anyways.”

“ _Their_ attention,” you corrected, in the most neutral tone you could muster with the anger burning in your veins. _Stay calm for Blanche. You can do it._ You took a deep, shaky breath and got to your feet. You walked to the supplies station a mere two feet away from her, picked out a pencil, stepped over and set it down in front of her. “Happy?” you asked testily. She smacked her lips, pink gum behind her molars. Gum was not allowed in the lab due to safety regulations, so it seemed pretty obvious to you why this woman wasn’t succeeding as an intern. But she looked you up and down and shook her head, red curls bouncing viciously. 

“Not exactly. Why don’t you get me that scalpel over there? I’ll need it to prepare my cross-section samples.”

You looked where she gestured at and saw the scalpel sitting in the tray. You would’ve liked to tell her off and sit back down, but you decided that you might as well make things easier for yourself and do what she asked. With a sigh you went over, got the tray, and brought it back.

“Can I please get back to work?” you were about to ask, before gasping with shock. The tray clattered loudly to the floor and you clutched your hand, which suddenly didn’t hurt at all, despite the long jagged gash along your fingers.

“Sorry,” she gasped with mock concern. A dangerously thin smile spread across her lips as she dropped the scalpel in her hands. You watched it fall, splattering your red blood across the white tiles in a fine spray. “I didn’t mean to do that. It was an accident. But like that, I wonder… how will you finish your thesis in time? Looks like you’ll be a drop-out after all.”

“I think you went too far Halle,” one of the other interns said nervously, getting to his feet. “Look at her hand!”

“She’ll be fine,” Halle snapped, but you noticed through your shocked stupor that her face looked pale. You fell to your knees, clutching the wound with your other hand in an inefficient attempt to stop the bleeding.

“Help me!” you pleaded through gritted teeth, your eyes darting around. Anybody. They all watched you with mildly disinterested or horrified faces. “Please…”

Nobody moved.

“See?” Halle said. Her voice was wavering but the words delivered the same blow. “Nobody cares about you. Not even our He-She alien leader.”

With no words to answer her cruelty, you merely stared up at her until the world went black.

\---

The sound of a baby wailing woke you up. You sat up jerkily, blinking the bleariness from your eyes. A quick scan of your surroundings told you that you were in a hospital. Judging from the amount of people you heard around you, the emergency room. Immediately you looked down at your hand, your breath catching when you saw the hideous wound that had yet to be bandaged. The edges were dark, nearly black, and you couldn’t feel your pinky or ring finger. Anguish and despair welled up inside of you. That, paired with the shock of the injury… you clapped a hand over your mouth to quiet your embarrassingly loud crying, the tears streaming down your cheeks in hot patterns.

“[Name]!”

You looked up and squinted through the blurriness, making out a flash of white. Blanche was at your side, breathing hard as if they’d ran all the way to the hospital. You brushed the tears from your eyes, Blanche’s deep blue eyes coming into focus.

“I can’t do it anymore,” you gasped out, your voice cracking into a whine. “They’re so cruel to me. I can’t do it anymore, Blanche, I just _can’t_ —”

“I’m sorry,” they said quietly as your sobs made yours words incoherent. You didn’t want to be crying. You hated this feeling of vulnerability in front of the person you admired most. Unable to bear Blanche’s gaze you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on breathing so that you could quit your pathetic blubbering. 

“Not your… fault,” you managed to squeeze out hoarsely between hiccups. Blanche went to your uninjured side and squeezed your hand tightly, despite the blood still caked on it. You looked up at them, startled, and was even more surprised to see their expression. Blanche looked positively crushed. Why would they? You were just an intern. Hated by most, too, apparently. Why should Blanche care at all? Why did they look like that?

“You’re safe now,” they said after a while, looking back at you. Your body, weak with blood loss, jerked intermittently with discordant sobs that you held in by holding your breath. Your fingers twitched and you clutched their hand as tightly as you could, grateful there was function in those fingers. But you couldn’t feel your other hand, your dominant one, and your sobs came crashing back. Immediately Blanche drew you into their arms, pressing your face against their chest. _I’ll ruin your shirt,_ you thought miserably, but you were too weak to move away. 

“I can’t do it,” you repeated, your voice muffled in their embrace. “I can’t do it, Blanche…”

“I’m sorry this had to happen to you. But you’re safe now. You’re with me. You’re okay.” Blanche’s voice rumbled in their chest, their words soothing you. After a good fifteen minutes you finally calmed down, with only the occasional hiccup interrupting your breathing. Sensing that you had stopped crying, Blanche pulled away from you somewhat, their hand still wrapped around yours.

“When I heard that you’d been sent to the hospital, I didn’t… I didn’t know what to do. I dropped everything to come here.”

“Why would you do that?” you whispered, not trusting yourself to speak normally. Blanche’s eyelashes fluttered and they glanced back down to your mangled hand. You wanted to hide it, ashamed, but Blanche grasped your forearm gently to prevent you from moving it out of sight. They kept one hand on your wrist and the other in yours, staring at you intensely.

“Because I care about you. Deeply. But if working with me puts you in this much danger…” they trailed off before speaking again, their voice wavering with uncertainty for the first time since you had met Blanche. “Perhaps it’d be best for me to let you go.”

You wanted to protest but could feel the grief of Blanche’s words weigh back down on your chest. Be separated from them? Halle’s cold expression and the indifference across your colleagues’ faces flashed back into your mind. A small whimper escaped your and you looked down, trying your damned hardest not to cry again. Blanche shook their head.

“It’s okay to cry in front of me, [Name]. It’s fine. You’ll be fine. I know you will. Because you’re strong, and smart. So it’ll be okay.”

“Can I…?” you wheezed, reaching your good hand out shakily for their shirt. You didn't believe a word Blanche was saying and wanted to hide your hideous face. Blanche blinked with confusion before nodding, a strained smile on their face. The one people gave to those mourning at funerals. You leant back into their tight hug as they rubbed circles on your back. You stayed there, pressing your face into their chest, where things were warm and dark and safe. You felt security there; you felt safe. Like Blanche was saying, you were only safe here, in their arms. You stayed there for as long as you could, not able to notice the tears in Blanche’s eyes as they felt you bawl in their arms.

“I’m sorry,” Blanche muttered once again, holding you tightly without once letting go.


	9. Spark [3/5] Warmth

**warmth (n.)  
enthusiasm, affection, or kindness.**

   
“Spark?”  
   
“Yeah?”  
   
“Why… are we here? And _please_ , for the love of God, tell me that you’re not wearing Pikachu patterned swim shorts.”  
   
“What’s wrong with them?!” he demanded, even going so far as to jut a leg out in your direction so that you’d see it more clearly. The Pikachus patterned on his white swim shorts smiled up at you. You scowled, kicking his thigh away. He hopped on a single leg away from you, nearly losing his balance as you crossed your arms.  
   
“I asked why we’re here!” you snapped peevishly.  
   
“Okay, geez! Look, hear me out. You’ve been cooped up inside your house for the past couple of days, right? So… it’s a beautiful day, and I’m here to take you outside!” he beamed at you, that grin just as blinding, hot, and _annoying_ as the sun that was currently roasting you to death from above.  
   
“I don’t want to be outside. I like being inside.” You scoffed, making to leave. “I’m going back home.”  
   
“W-wait, [Name], you can’t leave yet! We just got here!”  
   
You turned back to him, making a face. “I didn’t realize that you were dragging me all the way to this lake so that I could watch you swim.”

“Watch me swim?” he repeated, cocking his head with confusion. In the sun his hair looked like it was woven out of iridescent gold, and the green-blue waters behind him complimented it. He was saying something but you didn’t catch it, your eyes catching on his abdomen. You didn’t realize you were staring intensely at him (and his shirtless torso) until he pointed at himself, a sly smile teasing his features.

“Checking the view out?” he teased. Hastily you looked back out towards the road, taking another step off the dock. “[Name], you didn’t answer my question!”

“What question?” You twisted back around, making sure to direct your gaze anywhere but to him.  
   
“Why aren’t _you_ wearing any swimming clothes?” he asked, hands on his hips. (God, what did you just say about not looking at him! Idiot!)  
   
“Y-you never told me to bring a swimsuit! You just showed up at my door and was like, ‘we’re going’.” The memory of him busting into your room this morning annoyed you enough to snap you out of your head induced trance. (He had indeed broken the lock of your front door the first time around and had the decency to replace it for you; but you hadn’t realized he’d kept a key himself.)  
   
“I could’ve sworn I texted you…” he looked up, scratching his chin as he thought about it. He dug around in his bag and pulled out his iPhone, cracked and outdated, squinting at the screen that he shielded from the sun with the other hand. “Oh, no. Yikes. I sent that to the groupchat.”

“Groupchat?”

“With Blanche and Candela. Now they think I just want to see them in a bikini. My bad. Anyways, we’re still going to swim!” He dropped his phone back into his bag and pointed at you forcefully. Your jaw dropped.  
   
“That water’s freezing! Not to mention how dirty it’s gotta be. No way. I’m not swimming. Especially not in these clothes.” You gestured down dramatically at your t-shirt, jacket, jeans, and shoes.

He wrinkled his nose, waving you off. “I think you’ll be fine in those clothes. Besides, there’s gyarados in this lake, and we’ve got to catch it!”  
   
“ _You_ can catch it,” you muttered dismissively. You pointed back over to the trees. “I’ll sit in the shade and wait.”  
   
“There’s no fun in being outside if you’re just going to sit there and do nothing!” Spark whined. He marched up to you and grasped your wrist before you could say anything. Ignoring your spluttering protests, he started to drag you to the edge of the dock. Despite your adamant resistance, Spark was stronger than he looked, and managed to get you to the edge. Desperate, you crouched into a ball to make yourself harder to move, your hand hanging up in the air as Spark looked down at you.  
   
“What, are you going to dive in? I thought you were more of a cannonball type of person.”  
   
“I’m not going in there,” you stated bluntly.  
   
“Sure you aren’t!”  
   
Your screeching echoed around the hills, making birds flutter fretfully out of their perches as you fell unceremoniously into the lake with a splash.  
   
“Spark!” you spluttered, flailing. You coughed the water out of your mouth. “I can’t… swim!”  
   
“Haha, very funn—oh, crap.” He watched as your head went under, and immediately dived in afterwards.  
 

\---

   
“Sorry about that. You should’ve said you couldn’t swim earlier!” He towelled off your hair for you, his actions rough and nearly breaking your neck. You batted his hands away, still angry at him and the taste of grimy lake water in your throat.  
   
“I said I didn’t want to swim. And what do you do? You shove me in. That’s real grace, Spark. Real great.”  
   
“I already said I’m sorry.” He plopped down next to you. You shivered slightly, goosebumps raised on your wet skin. Although Spark had pulled you out quickly, the feeling of imminent drowning and actual death was still on your mind. You swallowed thickly, closing your eyes. Despite the hot sun wicking water off of your skin, you still felt incredibly cold.  
   
“You know what? I’m going to teach you how to swim. From now on we’re coming out here every day.”  
   
You opened your eyes and blinked at him, part of your vision obscured by the fluffy yellow towel he’d left on your head. You moved it down so it hung around your neck and furrowed your brow.  
   
“Why would you go out of your way to teach me how to swim?”  
   
“Well, I’ve got to get you out of that house, don’t I? Exercise would be good for you, too. Just think about how fun it’d be! Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe, too. No more shoving you off of decks, I swear.” He grinned at you, but you merely stared back at him.  
   
“I mean… why would you go so far out of you way to do that for me? You don’t benefit anything, do you? Actually… why have you been helping me so much all this time?” You looked down at the bags, where your egg basked in the sun. Eggie had’t hatched yet, but Spark had managed to calm some of your anxieties about it. Spark merely chuckled to himself.  
   
“I already told you. Team Yellow’s a family. But I don’t think of you as family!”  
   
You blinked at him and he suddenly turned a bit pink, his cheeks flushing patchily with blood.  
   
“I-I mean, I’d benefit from spending time with you. And you’d learn how to swim, and we can both catch a gyarados. Win-win, right?”  
   
The fact that he was actually saying this to you made a blush flare up to your cheeks. You dropped the towel onto the deck, feeling extremely hot and sweaty in your sopping wet clothes. Spark, having recovered, was oblivious to your own bashfulness and picked the towel up off of the deck, putting it back around your shoulders.  
   
“You don’t want to catch a chill,” he said cheerily, slinging an arm around your shoulder. You seized up at the touch, not accustomed to the feeling of his bare skin so close to you.  
   
“What are you doing?” you asked slowly, staring directly forwards so that you wouldn’t think about how close his face was to you. Droplets from his hair fell against your cheek and you wheezed, your heart spluttering like an old engine about to stall.  
   
“Keeping you warm. Once you get warmed up, we’ll start with doggy paddling!”  
   
“But what about the gyarados? I’m pretty sure it’ll get pissed off and try to drown us both if we don’t catch it first…”  
   
“Don’t worry about it,” he exclaimed confidently, squeezing your shoulder so that you moved close to him. “With these guns, that gyarados will steer clear!” He flexed his other arm, but you looked away, ashamed and embarrassed to even be in his company.  
   
“…thanks,” you muttered after he’d stopped flexing. He brushed hair back with his free hand, droplets beading at the ends like little diamonds. You looked at him and gave him a soft, wry smile. “For saving me.”  
   
“No problem. Like I said, I’m a good swimmer! Like, have you _seen_ these muscles?! Seriously, look at how hot I am.”  
   
You had meant ‘thank you for saving me from my depression’, but that worked too. You snorted as he took his arm off of you to flex both arms and shook your head disgustedly, but your heart was warm.  
   
   
  


	10. Candela [4/5] Lust

****

lust (n.)  
very strong sexual desire.

You and Candela had been in a relationship for a little over a decade, now. As embarrassing as it was to admit, Candela had been your one and only lover. However, you supposed you didn’t mind all that much—you’d rather have Candela than a million other women who weren’t her. She was everything you wanted and more. She was everything you wanted to be and everything you were. Everybody commented that you and Candela were a perfect match, and they could guess that the two of you were dating long before either of you admitted it. The only problem with your lack of experience was… well…

What the hell were you supposed to do?

It wasn’t as if you had particularly good role models from the media. Even when a relationship wasn’t needed, the obligatory hetero romance would just get shoved into your face. Most, if not all of your friends were hetero, and when you asked them for advice, they’d just scratch their heads. _Who’s the man in the relationship?_ was asked a lot, which pissed you off. There _were_ no men in the relationship. That was the entire idea behind being gay. Although you would’ve agreed that Candela was much stronger than you physically and a lot more intimidating, you didn’t think that equated to masculinity. Besides, what would’ve been wrong with a couple consisting of two feminine girls? So you couldn’t get any help from anybody around you. However, one thing somebody had once asked stuck with you:

_Have you guys slept together yet?_

The answer, truthfully, was no. You just didn’t feel… ready. It wasn’t as if you never wanted to engage in it, and you trusted Candela more than anybody. But you didn’t know. You tried to psyche yourself up for it some nights, but Candela would sense your anxiety like a Growlithe could smell it and backed off despite your protests. She was kind enough to not bring it up, knowing that the topic made you uncomfortable. But you were the only person responsible for frustrating yourself.

You two had known each other for ages and been together for just as long, yet, you knew people who hit _that_ base much earlier than the two of you had even shared your first kiss. Hell, people were having _kids_ in a shorter span of time than you had known Candela. People wondered aloud when the two of you would be getting married, but Candela merely smiled and shrugged. The two of you both believed that marriage wasn’t required to show love, but as more and more of your friends were getting engaged, you were starting to worry. Was she waiting for _you_ to pull out the stops? You really, really loved her for being so patient with you, but you also felt guilty all the same.

So this was it. You would swallow your own self-doubts and apprehension and… do it? You didn’t really know how. After all, you’d only been with Candela, and the depictions on TV were always with a man and woman. You paced the shared apartment, thinking hard while chewing on your lip. Sexy underwear? Would that be too cringe-worthy? No, Candela liked things to be straightforward and simple. The grandiose gestures were more suited to the team leader of Mystic than Valor’s. 

You couldn’t deny that your heart wasn’t positively racing. You were sure that you might pass out just by thinking about it. If the mere idea of having sex with Candela made you feel like this, how were you going to cope when actually… 

“I’m home!” came her cheerful voice, the slamming of the front door following it. You nearly screeched with surprise at her sudden appearance but swallowed it down, practically sprinting to the hall to greet her. 

“C-Candela, hey! You’re home pretty late.” You wanted to kick yourself for stuttering already but held your ground, fidgeting slightly with your hands as Candela took her boots off. She sighed dramatically.

“I know! Blanche and Spark have been bickering all night. You’d think it’d be Blanche and I but _no_.” She huffed another lengthy exhale, kicking off her other shoe. “I’ve been cooped up at the leadership conference for like, six hours straight! I need a shower.”

“Can I join you?!”

 _What the hell am I shouting for?_ you panicked, hating yourself immensely. Candela froze and turned to look at you, bewilderment written across her elegant and golden-toned features. This was it. You inhaled sharply to steel your resolve and continued, speaking so quickly that she couldn’t interject.

“It’s been eleven months since we’ve started dating and I know it’s my fault that we haven’t gotten anywhere farther than a kiss and I don’t want to disappoint you because it’s totally my fault but I’m ready now so—” you inhaled wheezily, finishing with a meek mutter, “so I want to show you that I love you.”

“[Name],” Candela said reassuringly, although there was still an underlying tone of surprise. She chortled suddenly, reaching out and grasping both of your shoulders. With a firm shake, she continued. “I already told you. We can take it slow. I don’t mind. It’s not your fault! I don’t blame you for anything. It doesn’t change our love for each other, right? I don’t want to push you to do anything you don’t want to do. I already know you love me, and you know that I love you, right?”

“Candela…” you muttered, feeling guiltier than ever, despite knowing she was trying to eliminate that very feeling. “I don’t deserve you. Honestly.”

She squeezed your shoulders, giving you a wink that made your brain melt. “That’s what I think, too. Anyways, I’m gonna go take wash up. You wouldn’t believe how sweaty a conference room can get when Blanche and Spark get fired up…” She laughed and gave you a peck on the cheek. Your heart nearly popped. She left to go shower and you slumped in the hall, sighing with defeat. Foiled by Candela’s overwhelming kindness once again. You slunk away to the bedroom, plopping into the bed with another depressed sigh. You’d wanted to make things right tonight. Despite the fact that she insisted that it wouldn’t change your relationship, you knew it’d make her happy if you could just open yourself up to her properly. That was all you wanted—to make her happy.

You hadn’t realized how long you’d spent moping. Candela walked into the bedroom and you raised your head sleepily, inhaling sharply when your eyes landed on her. You’d seen her wearing less, really. Things like bikinis or her underwear when the two of you changed in the same room. But in her towel, one wrapped around her muscular body and the other around her neck to catch the rivulets of water streaming from her deep brown hair. Her skin resembled a smooth batch of coffee and she noticed your stare, glancing at you with amber eyes that were shaped so perfectly. Your heart thudded desperately.

“[Name]?” she asked, obviously concerned with your wild gape. She looked down at herself, craning her neck, trying to see what it was you were so focused on. “Did I miss a spot of soap or something?”

“I’m ready!” you blurted out. You didn’t know why this sudden rush of love and affection and hot-blooded lust had suddenly come on to you. But you felt like something had clicked into place, completing the circuit of your body. You felt feverish and you knew that you wanted her. 

Again, Candela looked baffled with your sudden 180. She opened her mouth to tell you that it wasn’t necessary, like usual, but then she stopped. It must have been something in your expression, for she blushed—something rare for the woman of such confidence. She nodded slowly, a wry smile coming to accentuate the red on the apples of her toffee cheeks.

“Okay,” she purred agreeably, licking her lips like a lioness would before devouring its prey.

Who was the man in the relationship? The two of you sure as hell didn’t need one, that was for sure.


	11. Blanche [4/5] Peace

****

peace (n.)  
freedom from disturbance; quiet and tranquility.  


After your injury, you’d been dismissed from Team Mystic. That was just the term used to sugar coat ‘fired’. Your contract was terminated and you had 9 days to clear out your things, which you left at the labs, as a spiteful gesture to Blanche. Blanche’s parting words to you had been stately orders to stay home and rest. You hadn’t heard from them afterwards. You saw their face everywhere on Mystic propaganda, the news… sometimes you’d watch Blanche talk on liveshows about evolution, and it was like you were there with them. But Blanche had severed all ties with you. You knew they were doing it in an attempt to protect you. You weren’t an idiot. And, in truthfulness, it was probably Blanche’s unwitting bias that had gotten you here in the first place. But you didn’t think of it that way. It was the others’ faults for being so jealous. Halle Lindstein had been convicted with assault and had also been removed from Team Mystic. Not only that, Halle had all of her research rights permanently suspended and was probably serving time. You didn’t bother to keep in touch with her situation. 

But you were most upset at Blanche for not realizing that their distancing was just hurting you more.

For weeks you moped around at home. Your nerves and all arteries as well as veins were intact, which was a relief. After stitching you up, you were good to go, and would recover fully in a couple of months. Still, you were depressed. You didn’t have a job that you loved to go back to. You didn’t get to see Blanche any longer. You didn’t even want to have a relationship or anything, anymore. You just wanted to be able to talk with them again. Blanche had made you feel so at _peace_ with yourself and the world. No matter what, Blanche had coaxed you into a state of calm. The way the spoke and the softness behind their smile had made you fallen in love before you’d even realized it. That was how you could work so diligently and remain positive in your past internship. It was all because of Blanche, and now, you didn’t even have that.

You were just starting to stretch out your tenderly healing fingers when the doorbell rung. Peeking out the peephole, you recognized the woman’s face immediately, opening the door with a bit of hesitation.

“Hello,” you greeted warily, “can I do something for you?”

“[Name] [Surname]?”

“Yes, that’s me.”

“I’m Candela. Team Leader of Valor.”

“I know.” It was impossible not to. Even if you hadn’t been on Team Mystic, her face was just as prominent as Blanche’s or Spark’s. Their names were known to everybody all across the country, so it was a little surreal to have a famous poster girl standing in front of you. She beamed and held out a hand. You shook it with your uninjured hand, inviting her in, albeit with even more confusion than before. She sat on your couch and got right to the point, not even pausing to compliment you on your matching décor.

“I got a call from Blanche. They summarized what happened to you.”

“Um… really? Blanche called you about me?” The statement was shocking. You thought Blanche had completely forgotten about you. It certainly felt that way.

“Yeah. Blanche said you’re a determined, hard-working genius. Blanche also requested a favour from me. Want to guess what it is?”

“I’m not the guessing type,” you muttered. “What was it?”

“To recruit you.”

“Recruit… meaning what? Joining Team Valour?”

“That’s it.” She beamed at you, cocking her head to the side. Her gaze flicked over you in an examination. “So, what do you say?”

“…why didn’t Blanche send the other guy over? Spark?”

“You can ask Blanche yourself if you join my team. I have no idea what they were thinking.” She winked at you and you realized just how cunning this woman was. You traced a hand over your stitches absent-mindedly.

“Why should I? What would I even do there? I’m not that big of a trainer. I joined Mystic for a reason, and now…” you stopped, getting choked up with the memory of getting kicked out. There were other research groups that you were looking into, sure, but you’d never really debated joining a rival team. In your heart you were still loyal to Blue.

“You can still do your research. Hell, we need somebody like that on our side. You can’t win by strength training alone.”

“Isn’t that Team Valor’s entire philosophy?”

She snorted. “Seriously, has Blanche or Spark been talking dirty? The three teams might seem divided but we’re all working to the same goal. Yeah, we might fight over gym territory, but our teams are working together to create a better understanding of pokemon.” She smiled at you, a little less fiendishly than before. “You could probably liaison with Mystic and Instinct, too.”

“Really?” That caught your attention. That meant that you’d get to talk to Blanche again. And nobody would be able to blame you for it! It’d depend on Blanche if they wanted to talk to _you_ , but you had to give it a shot, or you’d never forgive yourself. Candela caught onto your train of thought by analyzing your expression and nodded firmly, holding out her hand.

“Deal?” she asked. You reached out and shook.

“Deal.”

\---

A couple of months later, you had suddenly reconnected with the person you had longed for since forever in the least likely of places—the store.

“It’s kind of funny to see you buying groceries. You just seem too… perfect to be doing something so normal.” You laughed slightly, walking slowly with Blanche along the aisle. You’d been trying to reach something on the top shelf, your fingertips only just managing to graze the box. You were about to start climbing the cart before Blanche had plucked it up and placed it into your hands. The atmosphere between the two of you hadn’t changed at all and it was as if the time spent apart hadn’t been there at all. Blanche chuckled themselves, the low rumble warming your heart. You hadn’t heard that laugh in so long. Part of your recovery had been because of your determination to meet Blanche again, and being able to do that settled a warm feeling of relief over you. 

“Yes, well, nobody is perfect. How are you? Are you well?”

“Yeah. Look, my hand’s healed all the way, too! And I have this super cool scar now.” You showed them the palm of your dominant hand, the stitches looking a bit like a railroad, as you had dubbed it. They smiled wryly, obviously amused by your enthusiasm. 

“I’m glad you’re all right. Is Team Valor treating you well?”

“I mean, it’s hard to diss Mystic with the rest of them, but they’re nice to me. It’s really peaceful, too. I mean, everybody’s rowdy as hell, but I’m happy there.” You smiled brightly. “Thanks for calling Candela for me. If you hadn’t, I would’ve stayed inside my house until I died, probably.”

Blanche smiled back, the action making their eyes shrink slightly unevenly. You found that this quirk of theirs was cute. “Cute” wasn’t an adjective used to describe Blanche that often, but it was the truth. Realizing this made you remember just how much you missed them. You set the basket down and lunged forwards, hugging Blanche in a tight escapeless embrace. 

“[Name]?” they choked out, bewildered by this sudden turn of events. The groceries they were holding were squished between your chests, but you refused to let go, despite having carrot tops stuffed up your nostrils.

“You know, Blanche?” you spoke, your voice muffled in the fabric of their shirt. “We’re not colleagues now.”

“…yes, I know. It is a shame.” They spoke quietly now. Their arms were pinned by their sides and you loosened your grip slightly, looking up into their face with a bit of a mischievous smirk.

“So, you know what that means, right?”

One of their eyebrows arched inquisitively.

“We can date now.”

“I—oh. Oh, I see. Um… That is what you mean.” Blanches tanned complexion paled before turning a mosaic motley of red. That was another trait of Blanche’s that you deemed to be downright adorable. They juggled the groceries in their arms, looking as if they were struggling to figure out what to say. You waited patiently, feeling surprisingly calm. This sudden strike of boldness most likely had something to do from hanging around the jock-like trainers of Team Valor, but you couldn’t say that you hated having such confidence. Finally, Blanche looked at you in the eye, giving a sheepish smile.

“…if you’ll have me.”

With those words, everything felt at peace again.


	12. Spark [4/5] Affection

****

affection (n.)  
a gentle feeling of fondness or liking.

Although you had actually willingly agreed to the swim lessons, you were starting to wonder why you had done something stupid like that. Spark had actually communicated with you for once and set the time of 2 to pick you up for lessons, since the lake water would be warmer in the afternoon. But your anxieties and insecurities were catching up and beating down on you, hard.

You didn’t like the way your body looked. Even a full on wetsuit wasn’t enough for you to hide what you wanted to hide. And you were going to be showing that to Spark? It wasn’t as if you didn’t have faith in him, but… he was somebody you liked. You wanted Spark to be a part of your life, even though that sounded so selfish. You didn’t want to possibly disgust him with your look. 

And what if there were people at the lake, too? There hadn’t been anybody yesterday, but it was still a public lake. You didn’t think you could do it if people watched you, a grown adult, fail to do something as basic as swim. Just the thought of people laughing or even looking at you made your heart shrivel up and feel heavy. No, there was no way you could do it. When Spark came, you’d pretend to be sick with a flu. 

Although a few minutes late, Spark showed up, displaying a large grin and overflowing messenger bag. You saw his lightning-bolt patterned towel sticking out of the top and felt a lot guiltier for lying to him. Still, your anxiety about going out into the public won out, and you opened the door.

“Hey! You ready?” he chirped, greeting you with a casual wave. Once again, your heart felt as if it were being ground into your ribs by the guilt, but you pretended to sniffle.

“I’m sorry, Spark, but I can’t today… I’m sick.” You made your voice extra nasally for the full effect. His smile fell and he looked so crestfallen that you were about to take it back, but you grit your teeth and stuck to your resolve by blowing into a tissue you had prepared beforehand. 

“You caught a cold? Was it from yesterday?”

“Probabby,” you groaned in agreement, plugging your nose to sound as congested as possible. “I’m reaby sorry.”

Spark looked at you closely for a moment, looking studious. Spark? Looking studious? Something was up. You worried with a jolt that he’d caught on to you and blew your nose again to hide your face. 

“Hey, [Name]. If I kissed you right now, would I get sick, too?”

“What?!” you gasped, your act totally forgotten out of peer shock. Did he just say what you _thought_ he said? He smirked knowingly, leaning in close. You backed up, your leg hitting the sofa that had been set down in the middle of the living room. Spark advanced on you, kicking the door shut behind you so that it slammed sharply. His hands reached around your waist to rest on the seat back. Your breathing stopped and you stared with wide eyes as he craned his neck down for you, leaning, _leaning_ , so closely that you could taste his scent and see the fire in his eyes. If you so much as blinked, your eyelashes might’ve fluttered against his skin.

“Would you kiss me, even if I got sick?” he murmured, his voice a husky rasp that brought shivers down your spine. You swallowed thickly and wondered if you should close your eyes… he came closer still, his forehead knocking against yours. You squeezed your eyelids shut. You had never thought it was actually going to happen, but he was going to kiss you—!?

“Aha!” he blurted out, your eyelids shooting back open as he stepped back and pointed at you accusatorily. “As I thought! No temperature. You’re a liar, [Name]! Go get changed. We’re swimming, no matter what you say.”

You wheezed and nearly collapsed to the ground. 

“Tick tock!” he urged, tapping on an imaginary wristwatch. “The boogie board waits for your embrace!”

“Fine!” you spat, your heart still jittering erratically from his sudden closeness. You turned away and pressed a hand over your chest, feeling the hard beats against your fingertips. Spark clicked his tongue with mock annoyance, but he was glad you had stalked off to your bedroom to change. That way, you couldn’t see the mottled redness slashed across his delicately toned face.

\---

When walking down to the lake, you couldn’t help but run that almost-kiss scenario in your head a million times forwards and backwards. What would’ve happened if you’d taken the initiative to lean in close and kiss him first? What would it be like right now if you had kissed him? All the questions pissed you off and you were certain you’d go insane until he suddenly asked you about Eggie.

“How’s it doing? Showing signs of cracking anywhere?”

“I think it’s actually starting to get somewhere,” you admitted, grateful for the subject change and distraction from the fake wedding your brain had dreamed up in your head. You looked down at said egg in your arms, which you still brought around with you wherever you went. “I think I saw a malformation of the shell near the top, so Eggie might try to come out soon.”

“See?” he beamed at you. “Aren’t you glad we didn’t give up on Lil’ Eggie?”

“Lil’ Eggie?” you repeated, your nose scrunched up with distaste. “It’s a pokemon, not a street rapper.”

“Hey, I think it’s cute. Ah, like you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a proper swimsuit. You look good.”

Again, your jaw dropped, and you were at a total loss of human function. How could Spark have the confidence to just say things like that? Spark noticed that you were slowing down and turned to look back at you, concern etched in his cerulean eyes. Hurriedly you caught up with him, bowing your head so that he couldn’t see the blush fanned across your entire face.

“Thanks,” you mumbled. He laughed light heartedly as the two of you descended the stairway into the beach. Luckily, nobody was there. 

“No need to thank me for stating the truth, [Name]. Can’t wait to see you when you’re sopping wet!”

For the umpteenth time, you felt as if you were going to faint.

\---

“Where’s the boogie board?” you asked as he set his bag back down onto the same dock he’d pushed you off of. He gave you a curious look.

“What boogie board?”

“You mentioned one. …I will have one, right? Or like a floaty? Something?”

“Of course not! You’re here to learn how to swim without ‘em, so what’s the point of using them to learn?”

“Th-the point?! The point is for me not to die, Spark!” You felt panic rise in your throat acridly. Spark merely laughed again.

“You won’t die. I’m here to protect you, remember?” He waded into the water first, sighing exaggeratedly with relief. He went in deep enough for his torso to be covered and dunked his head, going farther and farther until he was treading water. “Come on!” he shouted, turning back to face you.

Reluctantly, you followed too, appreciating the cool but not frigid water lapping against your skin. The day was hot, a searing 35 degrees, so the water helped to ease some of your discomfort. But not all of it. You stood where it lapped your ankles but didn’t move further. Spark swam back towards you, shaking his wet hair like a dog, before grasping your wrist. His hand was wet and had more suction to it, allowing him to tug you all the way to where the water flicked at your waist despite all your protests.

“Doggy paddling. It’s easy. You go on your front and you kick with both legs, using both hands to propel yourself forwards. Watch me!” He demonstrated for you, but you couldn’t even find yourself to take him seriously. Doggy paddling? It sounded stupid and looked stupid, too. But, you supposed, it was better than drowning and looking dead.

“I don't know,” you admitted, “I’m not really confident enough to… well.”

“It’s fine. Here, I’ll hold you up so you can get the motion, and then I’ll let go for you to swim that way.” He pointed to the tree bank that was west. “Okay?”

“What do you mean you’re going to let go?!” you demanded, but he’d already grabbed you by the waist, hoisting you so that you fell forwards. You screamed and was greeted with a faceful of murky water. You flailed and splashed, kicking Spark once or twice before managing to get your nose above the water. You spluttered, but could feel Spark’s hands pressing into your stomach. The feeling was curious. It wasn’t painful, since the water helped your buoyancy quite a bit, making you light. Yet his touch on your bare skin like this… well, it felt electrocuting. (Which might have been a terrible adjective to use, seeing as the both of you were submerged in a large body of water.)

“I don’t want to do this!” you screeched hurriedly, spluttering, regretting everything as the water came in waves at your nose. You hated it. You didn’t like not being able to control it; you hated having the prospect of death on your mind at all times; you hated the embarrassment of not being able to swim. But Spark didn’t let go.

“You _can_ do it. I believe in you. Just like you’ll hatch our friend Eggie, you’ll be swimming in no time. It’s not hard at all, and I’ll be here to catch you, always! So just try it. For me?”

You couldn’t see his face in this position, but his soothing tone calmed you. You managed to angle yourself so that you weren’t constantly drinking lake water and inhaled shakily. If Spark really believed in you, then you couldn’t let him down.

“I’m gonna try now,” you said, your voice still shaky with nervousness. You started kicking your feet and moving your hands in the way he’d shown you, straining to keep your neck straight to have your head above water. Spark moved with you.

“Yeah, that’s it. You’re doin’ it, [Name]!”

“I am?” you gasped happily, shocked that he was praising you this early. How many years had you been alive, not knowing how to swim? Were you really getting it done in five minutes? You continued swimming west like he had instructed, feeling the water rush through your fingertips, enveloping your body.

“If you get tired, just put your feet down, since you’re in the shallows!” Spark shouted, but you realized something. Why was his voice so far away? Although you weren’t tired yet, you put your feet down, your toes sinking into the soft sand. The water was only neck high and you turned around, realizing Spark had let go of you some time earlier without you realizing. You stared at him with your eyes nearly boggling out of your head. 

“Did I just… swim like that without even knowing?” you asked, calling out to him. From this angle he stood directly in the sun’s rays, his hair lighting up. It wasn’t as bright as his proud grin.

“Yeah, you did! I’m so proud of you!” He rushed over, wading heavily through the water resistance. You cried out with a mixture of joy and confusion, even throwing your hands up in the air childishly, water trailing the actions and raining back on you.

“Spark! Spark, I did it! I—I swam by myself!”

He finally caught up to you and embraced you tightly in a headlock, rubbing the top of your head roughly with his thumb knuckle. 

“Ow!” you howled, trying to shove him off of you. He laughed at you heartily.

“See? I knew you could do it! You had me cheering you on, after all!” he released the hold but kept his arm wrapped loosely around your shoulder, pulling you close to his side. He looked down at you, genuine happiness oozing out of him everywhere you looked. Personally, you thought it was weird that this guy was cheering you on so excitedly for something so trivial and dumb, like doing a doggy paddle for 20 metres. But it made you happy. It wasn’t like before in the apartment, where his paralyzing presence had totally frayed your nerves. Just being close to him like this; sharing tender, sweet memories like this… it made you happy.

So you kissed him.


	13. Candela [5/5] Ease

****

ease (n.)  
make (something unpleasant, painful, or intense) less serious or severe.

You were pretty much head-over-heels in love with her the minute you’d met Candela’s eyes that one day in junior high.

A while ago, if you were asked to list what you loved, you might’ve started with her. And then you would’ve gone on: you would’ve said you loved your family, your hobbies, your pokemon, your favourite colour, your favourite band… but you would never have said yourself in a million lifetimes. 

Candela was who you aspired to be. Everything about her was admirable. Beauty ran in her veins like gold and her smile was sunlight. From the time you had spent with her she had never been anything but kind, anything but passionate… with her you had rediscovered the meaning of life, of love, of acceptance, of humanity, and of self.

Had there been times of hardships? Of course. The two of you bickered and fought, cried and made up, and then you moved on. Never had it gotten so bad that the two of you could not forgive each other, and the both of you would heal each other to forgive yourselves. 

One could say that a trainer reflects themselves in their pokemon. Your apartment was always full of them, new and old, sniffling around in a curious fashion with the same fiery light that she had in her eyes. If she was absent because of her Team Leader duties, they would take care of you, and it was like she was there to love you all the same. 

So… how did you fall in love with her? Why? You still couldn’t answer after all these years because the answer was merely “I just did”. She was perfection and you were drawn to it like the planets around the sun. But, although the Earth might’ve wanted to whip out of the sun’s orbit through properties of inertia, you could find nothing that would make you want to leave her. The two of you stuck together, forming a lifelong bond that did not even need to be reaffirmed. Still, you felt as if you wanted to solidify it with her. Make the bond real. You wanted to show the world that bond forged in ardour in the form of a shiny gold ring.

The day was only just starting to roll in and you were actually starting to get sweaty palms and shaky knees. You hadn’t slept at all the previous night, too antsy and excited for today. You inhaled deeply and slapped both of your cheeks to ready yourself. This was it. The final moment of truth!

You planned it for months, afraid to talk about it to anybody in case the word might leak. Some other members in Team Valour, which you had co-founded with Candela, seemed to know what was going on and slipped you hints about what happened to them during their special moment. You knew Candela would never expect you to propose to her, which is exactly why you had to. The both of you had already agreed that marriage wasn’t necessary; that you loved her and she loved you and there was no need for any pompous ceremony to prove it. Still, you were determined. It would make her happy, you knew, and that was all you wanted. 

“[Name]?” she asked in her cute, groggy ‘just-woke-up-where’s-my-coffee’ voice. She entered the kitchen, her short hair haphazard with miniature cowlicks. She squinted at you suspiciously. “Why are you up so early?”

“You’ll see,” you said cryptically, a grin warming your features. “Get ready to go for a jog.”

“ _You_ want to go… _jogging_?” she repeated incredulously, her eyebrows shooting up. Candela was fit as a fiddle and could probably bench-press you no problem—but you were a bit more on the sedentary side. Okay, you got out of breath climbing the stairs at work. You pretended to flex both arms.

“What, you think you could beat me?”

Immediately, Candela sat up. If there were two things she couldn’t resist, it was catching rare pokemon, and a challenge. A smile reflecting yours appeared on her face and she dashed back into the bedroom to change, a laugh trailing behind her.

You patted your pocket to reaffirm the small box’s existence and did not spare a moment to regret the fact that you were about to be run down by your crazy girlfriend.

\---

“That was a good sprint. You okay, [Name]?”

“What?!” you wheezed, resisting the urge to collapse into a heap and wait for your lungs that had been left behind on the corner of 52nd to catch up to you. “Yeah… I’m… great!”

“If you knew you didn’t want to run far, why’d you bring us all the way back to our junior high?” She was on the grass, stretching out her legs, her head bowed over as she rested her fingers on the balls of her feet. You sat beside her and lay less gracefully, struggling to catch your breath before formulating a response. 

“I had something… to tell you.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked, stretching her shoulders. “Go on, then.”

“Candela, I love you.”

She was surprised by the sudden declaration but laughed soon after, the sound gentle and pure. “That’s it? You didn’t have to bring me to our old school to say it. You could tell me that at a dumpster and I’d still say I love you too.”

“Proposing… in a dumpster… is not as picturesque.”

And if only you had brought a camera to record the look on her face, it would’ve been complete.

\---

“I still can’t believe it!” she gushed, holding her right hand in yours as she turned her left hand over again and again. “I can’t believe that you actually… and you agreed to run here with me because it was where we met?! I can’t _believe_ you!”

“I can’t believe you either,” you teased, hiding the immense relief that she had actually said yes. Despite the fact that you were already assured in the answer, there had still been a small kernel of doubt. But that doubt had long since faded. Candela had strengthened you, loved you—you loved her, but you also learnt to love yourself. Perhaps that was just as important as her in your life, and for it, you’d be forever grateful. 

Her hand in yours, the two of you walked over the same hill the first day the two of you had met. That time, the unknowns of the future had invigorated you, filling you with a sense of anticipation. You still didn’t know what was over the crest of the hill. But Candela was with you for sure, her hand tightening around yours as she leant on your shoulder, allowing you to be the one to give support. Instead of anticipation you instead felt… at ease. At ease with the world, at ease with yourself, and most of all, at ease with Candela by your side.

“I love you,” you whispered to her. “Whether we’re here or at a dumpster.”

She giggled. “Me too.”


	14. Blanche [5/5] Comfort

comfort (n.)  
the easing or alleviation of a person's feelings of grief or distress.

 

“You’re all right?” Blanche asked, crossing over the path to meet you at your resting place on a large boulder. You looked up, surprised to hear them, but smiled when you saw them coming towards you. You gratefully took the water they held out to you and drank deeply, the suction of the water bottle making a slick smacking noise as you handed it back to Blanche.

“Fine. Don’t worry! I just need a little break, that’s all.”

“Are you sure?” Blanche pressed worriedly. “Because if you’re tired, I’m sure the others will stay behind with you as we move forwards with the exped—”

“I’m fine,” you persisted. “I’m a scientist, Blanche. Don’t you dare think that I’m going to turn down an opportunity to observe wild Pokemon in such a remote habitat!”

Blanche’s smile was a little strained. “Yes, I know. That’s what I love about you, but it’s also causing me worry.”

You laughed patting their hand gently. “I told you not to, didn’t I?”

“And I told you that I didn’t want you on this hike. Especially with the baby.”

The mention of it brought your hand to your stomach. A little swell was actually starting to show now, confirming that yes, it was happening. It was a little frustrating, because you didn’t look pregnant, you just looked like you had a bit too much to eat at your favourite fast food place. But Blanche always assured you of your beauty and never forgot to remind you of how much they loved you. You didn’t even know why you felt self-conscious. With the child growing inside of you, you just felt even more beautiful.

“We’re fine,” you said softly, rubbing your hand over the cloth of your shirt. You knew you were just imagining it since it was way too early, but sometimes you thought you felt a heartbeat. 

“Don’t push yourself,” Blanche continued sternly. “Nothing is worth your health or safety.”

“Okay,” you laughed, deciding to give in to their constant fretting. Blanche frowned at your lighthearted attitude.

“This isn’t a joke, [Name]. You’re the most important person in my life. I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen.”

“Nothing will happen,” you soothed. Then you smirked. “But you know what would make me feel better?”

“What?” Blanche asked eagerly.

You tapped your lips and Blanche’s coffee-toned skin deepened.

“I see,” they muttered, a shy smile appearing on their thin lips. “I suppose this is something I can do.”

Being with Blanche had seemed to restore everything you felt you were missing in your life. They helped you find order with the world and with yourself. They helped you find peace with their calm disposition, and most of all, they gave you love. From the start of your silly crush you had always thought Blanche was some ethereal superior being. After really getting to know them, you realized some things—Blanche wasn’t that. Blanche was just as human as you were. 

The others had called them a he-she. An alien. A thing. All because Blanche refused to conform to a gender. They had a sex but that did not define them. Did a person’s blood define their fate? It always angered you that Blanche had always just accepted the abuse. Now, you were still disgusted by those who purposefully misgendered your lover. Blanche was a human, not a woman or a man. Still, Blanche had taught you the ways of forgiveness, and it had gotten to the point where the both of you merely faced it together. Perhaps it was best that way. If you could not have a world where Blanche was accepted as who they were, you were content with this world where the both of you held hands and took life together. And for your child, you could only hope that the world would be a better place for them.

Of course, you were anxious about it. Your family had a history of serious miscarriages. Or, what if the child didn’t grow up happy? What if you weren’t a good enough parent for them? The ‘what ifs’ had weighed on you from the start to the point where they had closed you in, suffocating you—

But a warm hand had always brought you out of it. You squeezed Blanche’s hand as they held yours and smiled at them.

“Your feet don’t hurt?” they began to pester again, massaging out your palm. Their fingers ran along the edge of your scar carefully and you closed your fingers around theirs, taking your other hand and holding theirs in both of yours. 

“No. I just want to sit here a bit with you.”

“Of course. Rest up.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to rest. I just want to spend time with you.”

“Oh,” Blanche remarked, blinking rapidly. They turned away and you caught a glimpse of their smile lines. You tightened your hold around their hand and scooted closer. 

“The team won’t mind, right?” you asked a bit worriedly. “If we lag behind a bit?”

“If they mind, don’t mind them,” Blanche replied simply, curling their arms around your waist. They patted your stomach gently and brought you closer to them, leaning your head on their chest. You heard the steady beat of their heart, feeling it against your cheek as if to assure you of their presence. You closed your eyes, a hazy and contented smile on your face.

“I love you Blanche,” you whispered. They tightened the hold on you.

“I as well.”

And like that, the both of you sat, taking comfort in the weight and heartbeats of each other.


	15. Spark [5/5] Joy

**joy (n.)  
a feeling of great pleasure and happiness.**

You wanted to say that after the kiss you transformed into a wonderfully confident, suave person—but the reality was that you immediately wanted to die. You never really had much experience with boys. Holding their hands already seemed like a daunting task and you might’ve let go even if they were only holding onto you to keep you from falling off a cliff. Well, you pretty much felt as if you had already fallen off the cliff into a spiraling Hell of insanity, because were you out of your damn mind?! You had only _just_ created a lasting relationship with somebody and here you were, ruining it. It was like you had just managed to bake the perfect cake before dropping it into an anthill with bird turds lining the entranceway. 

Great job!

“Sorry!” you squeaked, falling back onto the flats of your feet and stumbling away from him. The hand that had been in your hair fell away as you backed up, pin wheeling your arms to keep your balance. Your face felt like it were actually evaporating the lake water and you swallowed thickly, feeling sort of sick as the cold water lapped at your ankles. “I shouldn’t have… you know what, I’m just going to go. Sorry!” 

“Wait—”

You had already taken off sprinting. If it weren’t for the dire situation you might’ve been impressed with yourself. This was the most exercise you’ve gotten in ages, what with the swimming and wading through water and running from responsibility! But unfortunately, the result of your Netflix binging and unhealthy eating habits caught up with you forcefully, and dragged you back with greedy hands until you were a wheezing mess by the pile of bags Spark had left on the pier. He was, to your utmost luck, a star athlete and wasn’t even out of breath when he caught up to you.

“[Name],” he started softly, but you cut him off with as forceful of a _wait!_ as you could manage in your exhausted state.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized again, after your lungs had reinflated themselves. “I… I messed it up. So just leave me behind. I’ll be fine on my own now, thanks to you…” The memory of all he had done for you made your throat close up with emotion and you felt that much guiltier for screwing it up. You averted your gaze, unable to meet his cerulean blue eyes. You brushed the water droplets off of your knees and got to shaky feet, pulling your towel to your chest and reaching for your bag. “I’ll, um… resign from Team Instinct too, if that makes you more comfortable—”

“Shh!”

The blunt, downright rude interjection from the nicest guy you had ever met shocked you silent and gave you the courage to actually meet his eyes. Surprising you even more, he didn’t look angry, or even sad… he looked excited.

“What…?”

“Shh!” He hissed again. He crouched down to where you had propped Eggie up in the sun. Your eyes automatically followed his actions as he reached out to touch the shell. Spark closed his eyes and thought hard for a minute, running his fingers along the curve gently. He gave you a conspiratorial grin that betrayed none of the previous conversation topic you had just been babbling about.

“ _It’s hatching_.”

“What?!” You too forgot all about what you had been saying—you forgot about the kiss and your muddled emotions, too—and dropped to your knees at his side. Your fingers were trembling and Spark gave you a soft smile that you couldn’t quite see out the corner of your eye because you were staring so intently at the egg. He reached over slowly, tentatively, before taking hold of your hand. Despite the chilly water and slightly cool breeze, his large hands were as warm and strong as you could remember. You squeezed the fingers absentmindedly and only realized that you’d done so when he did it back. You glanced up at him, the regretful apology already on your lips, but he shook his head. You bit back the words and just… looked at him. The only noise was the sound of water lapping on the shore. You lost yourself in the electrifying depth behind his eyes, and time fell to a stop around you, defying all laws of the universe just as your heart defied logic.

When had you fallen so deeply in love?

Just the self-realization of it made your awareness of the universe come to colourful life. You loved him. You loved Spark. You loved him you loved him you loved him—God, it all made sense! That was why you kissed him. You loved him because he made you happy; he made you feel like things would come out okay; and you loved him because he was Spark and nobody else. 

Seeming to sense the end of your internal turmoil, he grinned at you before pulling your hand forwards. He splayed your fingers out on the mottled shell and you realized how he had known. There was a sharp crack in the shell, and if you sucked your breath in and really concentrated, you could just barely feel a tiny _tap-tap-scratch_ underneath. Life. Life _you_ had helped to nurture. 

The egg was finally hatching. Whatever was inside would at long last take its first breath of life. You would be joining it on its journey of life, because you had also been reborn. The old you— the one who did nothing but lie in bed and stare at the ceiling for weeks on end, contemplating how best to end it all, had finally achieved their dream of being put to sleep. A new you… one who was happy and swam laps and had an idiot spark of love in their life was born today, too. 

Never had you felt so much joy. Pure, unfiltered joy. Joy without doubt. Happiness without the fear of its loss… because back then, you were afraid of losing that high, and you feared chasing after it because you knew it’d just end up dead again. But with him, you knew for sure. You knew that there would be nothing but joy. It took you long enough to realize it, but you were just so stupidly _happy_ whenever you were with Spark. You didn’t need to chase after that high anymore. He was already here with you. 

“Do you get it?” he asked you suddenly, his voice so quiet he almost seemed like a different person. Your hand still underneath his, you looked up to him and nodded with a tiny smile that did nothing to reflect the overwhelming warmth you felt coming from within. 

“Yeah,” you replied simply, and he smiled back. 

The two of you sat like that for a while, waiting for the egg to hatch. You could feel its desperate tap-tap-scratch underneath the shell and every so often you would rub it, whispering a word of encouragement. Spark would join in, too, the both of you cheering on whoever was inside to start their new life with you. With the both of you, together. Family had never had much meaning to you before, but now you knew. Family was your team; family was with him; family was where you were loved and gave love.

“When you kissed me...” he started suddenly, leaning back. You adjusted the towel he had slung over your shoulders to stave off the cold and winced a little bit at the memory.

“Yeah, um… If we could forget that?”

“What if I don’t want to?” His eyes twinkled with mischief and he laughed before continuing. “I was like… ‘what the heck’? And then you ran away from me—”

“Yeah, you know what? Let’s forget that bit too.”

“—and I was doubly like, ‘the heck’? And I’ve never really had much experience confessing my feelings but, um… when I think about you, I never think ‘what the heck’. Because I know for sure… that I love you.”

“Oh,” you replied stupidly. “Okay. Um, ditto?”

He stared at you and you were about to dive off the pier before he burst into laughter. He wouldn’t settle down and you blushed again, hiding your face under the towel.

“Stop!” you whined, “I’m not good at this!”

“Me… me neither! Ditto? Hah… But that’s exactly why I love you so much.” A beat passed before he realized what he’d said, the surprise faltering his smile somewhat. “Um, that is…” His face reddened in the harmony with the dim light of the fast-setting sun. “Uh…”

“We’ll be awkward together,” you offered apologetically, and he chuckled with agreement. 

“From the day we met… I don’t know. I just felt something about you that made me want to get closer to you.” He didn’t speak to you but to the ground, hugging his legs loosely. His voice was a little hoarse but his words made your heart beat faster with each syllable. “There was just something special. I guess… I’m glad I was right.”

“Spark…”

He looked at you and you leant forwards a little, questioning. The tip of his nose brushed yours and you felt a faint scratch of forgotten stubble against your cheek when—

“Eevee?”

“Agh!” you screamed, not expecting the sudden voice to break into the silent conversation. Spark also jumped before scrambling to his hands and knees, taking the egg in his hands. The small Eevee cocked its head, its fur matted with clear goo. Your heart, which had just been racing, practically stopped.

“Eevee!” it said again, as if to reassure you that yes, it was real. Immediately your eyes welled over with tears and you clambered hastily to Spark’s side, pulling the weak and tired Eevee out of the remaining shell.

“Oh my god, you’re real… you’re real! This is real?” You couldn’t stop gushing and turned to look at Spark, who was already looking back at you with a fond, crooked grin. “Spark! It hatched! Eggie hatched!”

“Looks like a he,” he said, cocking his head to the side and brushing a bit of eggshell off of the Eevee’s head. He squirmed in your arms slightly before breaking out into a full-fledged smile at you. He chirped again, eyes shimmery and big. You practically exploded into tears.

“Hey, now, at least show _some_ sort of sorry face. You gave your mom a whole lot of trouble here!” Spark chastised, albeit jokingly. He rubbed your back as you struggled to recollect yourself, hiccupping intermittently.

“Mom?” you repeated, eyes widening slightly as you hugged the Eevee closer to you. He lapped at your chin wetly. 

“Yeah. After all you’ve been through for the little guy, I think you deserve it. So? Now that he’s not an Eggie, what’ll you name him?”

“Sparky,” you said immediately without a hint of hesitation. “I’m going to name him Sparky. Because… he gave me hope. And I love him.”

“That’s…” Spark put a hand over his face, the gesture not doing much to hide the delighted grin that lit up his features. “That’s nice. It suits you. It really does.”

“And… if I’m the mom, you’re the dad. Okay?”

You kissed him again before he had the chance to reply, settling Sparky to the side of you. He cocked his head and lay down, content to watch two awkward lovers find joy in each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Elsewhere: https://goo.gl/Sqtj17


End file.
